Dr John and Mr Lock: Headless at Hogwarts
by The Posh Pancake
Summary: This is Episode One of Series One of my 'Dr. John and Mr. Lock' Sherlock fan fiction series. It's quite funny. It's defiantly Johnlock, sort of 'Fluff' and borderline 'Smut'. Warning: Blood, gore, death and adult themes and scenes. This is the beginning of something special. To my fellow Goldfish, Don't forget to 'like' my Facebook page 'Dr. John and Mr. Lock Fan Fiction'. Enjoy!


Dr. John and Mr. Lock

Series 1:

Episode 1: Headless at Hogwarts

OPENING SCENE:

*A black screen fades out into scene.*

*Eery music starts.*

{Centre of a dark, empty room under a spastically flickering light. The room is bare and abandoned, the walls are pasty and crumbling, pipes are exposed and broken, there is a boiler in the back left corner of the room which is broken and humming loudly and boiling hot water is slowly dripping from a pool of water from the ceiling on the person's head.} [Person in a straight jacket is strapped to chair (moaning, crying, calling for help etc.), head is bagged and mouth is gagged. A mysterious man dressed in a black gimp suit, his hands are red, sore and bloodied, in his right hand holds a medium sized pen knife (only the right top half of his body is visible from the camera view.) He walks slowly forward to the person in the chair, he opens his knife. The light stops flickering and goes out.]

*Scene fades out into a black screen.*

*Knife slicing sound effect followed by a gender mutual scream of pain and fear.*

*Opening titles.*

*Black screen fades into scene.*

[Sherlock and John's apartment - mid afternoon.]

{Sherlock is laying face down on his blue sofa in a purple silk shirt, and matching blue silk trousers and dressing gown, with his arms spread out and covered in 'nicotine patches'.}

[Very loud classical music playing, all furniture has been rearranged, several shotgun shots in the wall and the ceiling has been covered in pancakes.]

[John is climbing the stairs with a couple of carrier bags in his hands and arms, he struggles to open the door as he has his fingers in his ears because Sherlock's blasting music.]

[John walks through the door and locks it behind him.]

John: {Trying to shout over the music.}

I see your finally up! I got the casserole you wanted!

[John places the bags in the kitchen and starts to put food away - oblivious to the front room.]

Sherlock: {Muffled.}

Don't care.

John: {Still shouting over music.}

Sherlock turn that music down!

[Sherlock lifts his head.]

Sherlock: Why should I?

John: You can hear it from ten blocks away!

[Sherlock rolls over to face John and curls into a ball and gives John a smirk.]

Sherlock: Oh John, I like it when you get angry.

[Sherlock laughs to himself and closes his eyes. John raises an eyebrow to Sherlock, shakes his head, sighs and gets back to putting away the shopping.]

Sherlock: John, you know I'm kidding right?

John: There's a lot I worry about you, but that isn't one of them.

Sherlock: Well, if you change your mind or break up with Mary - I am inquisitive.

John: {Confused.}

What? I. Don't. What? I REALLY don't know what your implying there Sherlock. What?

Sherlock: Don't worry.

[John grabs his laptop and sits in his arm chair, turns the music down and stares across the room realising that Sherlock has changed the furniture.]

John: Why the sudden furniture change?

[Sherlock rolls onto his back facing the ceiling with his fingertips touching opposite fingertips.]

Sherlock: It was boring!

John: Of corse it was.

[John sees the shotgun bullet holes in the walls.]

John: Oh, why the shotgun?

{Sarcastically.}

What did the walls do today?

Sherlock: My violin.

{Gritting his teeth}

John: Hmm. What about it?

Sherlock: {Frustratedly.}

Have. You. Seen. My VIOLIN!

John: What's that got to do with shooting the walls?

Sherlock: Everything! I have been so bored! Nothing new has come up! Mrs Hudson keeps making me drink green tea and eat blueberries! They are full of antioxidants!

[Sherlock jumps off the sofa and goes to John and starts shaking him.]

Sherlock: What happens when I run out of oxidants! Look how stressed I am John 12 nicotine patches! 12!

John: You know that's not healthy for you!

Sherlock: {Sarcastically}

Fine! I'll smoke then!

Oh John, your doing it again.

[Sherlock throws his arms in the air.]

[Sherlock turns around and belly flops on the sofa and sobs. John approaches him and peels one of his 'nicotine patches' off his leg and analyses it.]

John: Doing what?

Sherlock: {Muffles.}

Getting angry.

John: These are crisps with Sellotape stuck to them!

Sherlock: I know. It's a placebo for myself.

[John eats the crisp.]

John: Cheese and onion. You hate cheese and onion.

Sherlock: That's why they're nicotine patches, John. The one you ate by the way was moved from my genitals to my leg. It was getting sore.

[Sherlock turns on his side - facing John then looks at him in the most serious face possible. John screws his face in disgust and almost vomiting. Then without warning Sherlock bursts into hysterical laughter.]

John: Really? Sherlock? Was that really necessary?

Sherlock: {Still laughing hysterically.}

Yes John! That was necessary! You should of seen your face!

John: {Sarcastically.}

Haha! Funny!

{Spoken normally.}

What was with the music by the way?

Sherlock: I was bored. So I watched the some TV. It annoyed me - it was too dull. I through it out of the window.

John: Sher...

[Quickly gets interrupted by Sherlock.]

Sherlock: Shh. I'm talking. Don't interrupt. As I was saying... As I had nothing to do, I decided to change the furniture. After that, just like most human beings, I got hungry. And so I made pancakes.

John: I thought you've never made pancakes before.

[Sherlock indicates John with his eyes an head to look at the ceiling. John looks at the ceiling (with upmost surprise and shock) and the attempted pancakes and mixtures of egg, milk and butter splattered on the ceiling and dripping down the walls.]

Sherlock: Not until now.

John: We only had 2 eggs left. How did you make so much?

Sherlock: Yes John. Your right we only had 2 chicken eggs left. I used different eggs.

John: What type of eggs?

Sherlock: Ostrich.

John: Ostrich?

Sherlock: No - dinosaur! Of course I used ostrich.

John: Where do you get ostrich eggs from?

Sherlock: I don't like to talk about it.

John: Where?

Sherlock: {Mumbles.}

Mycroft.

[John looks at the ceiling and a pancake followed by some goop falls on his head and face. Sherlock laughs and smiles at John. John wipes the goo off his face and pulls the pancake off his head and throws it at Sherlock.]

Sherlock: As I was saying John. After I made my {coughs} pancakes. I played my violin. Went to Molly's lab. When I got back, I needed to think. I couldn't find it. I got angry at myself and the handgun wasn't good enough, so, of course I had to use the shotgun on the wall.

John: {Sarcastically.}

Of course.

Sherlock: As I can only think with classical music, I had to play Beethoven.

John: That loud?

Sherlock: {Arrogantly.}

Yes.

[Sherlock sits up, closes his eyes and goes into a mind palace.]

John: Mind palace?

Sherlock: Yes. Now quiet.

[Scene fades out into a black screen with white writing saying:

A FEW MINUETS LATER...

scene fades back in, John is sitting in his armchair (silently) and bored whilst mesmerised watching Sherlock wave his arms around and wiggling his fingers as he is in his 'Mind Palace'. Sherlock is sitting up and cross legged on the sofa. Sherlock opens his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose. He stands up and puts on his slippers by the door.]

Sherlock: Going to Molly's lab. You coming?

John: Why?

Sherlock: Violin!

[Sherlock and John leave the apartment.]

[Scene fades out to black screen. Then the black screen fades out to Molly's lab.]

[Sherlock storms into Molly's lab and slams the door behind him into John's face.]

[Sherlock walks up to Molly with John trailing behind him. Sherlock stops in front of her and breaths heavily.]

Sherlock: Have you got my violin?

Molly: I did. Just after you left, Lestrade came in and took it. He said he was going to go round yours and give it to you. He needed to speak to you.

Sherlock: Why?

Molly: Case I think.

[Sherlock turns around and tilts his head to the ceiling.]

Sherlock: {Shouts.}

Boring! What? Do they want my help?

Molly: No! Sherlock! This case is different.

[Sherlock turns back to Molly.]

Sherlock: Different? Different? How?

Molly: Different location. Norfolk. Female teenager aged 16, decapitated, missing body. And no-one has a clue. That's as much as I know. It's all hush hush and top secret at the moment.

[Sherlock raises a gigantic smile, starts to squeals like a exited little school girl and hugs Molly tightly.]

Molly: {Laughs}

Is there something in your pocket or you just really pleased to see me?

[Molly lifts her head from his chest and gives Sherlock a cheeky grin as she pushes her waist closer to his.]

[Sherlock releases Molly and grabs into his right trouser pocket and pulls out the tv remote.]

Sherlock: TV remote. Sorry to disappoint.

[Sherlock replaces the remote back into his right pocket.]

Sherlock: Well... Me and John have got to go.

[Sherlock grabs Molly's shoulders and kisses her forehead. He stares face to face with Molly, gives her a smirk and leans to her ear.]

Sherlock: {Whispers softly and almost romantically.}

Thank you.

{Spoken quite loudly almost shouting.}

Come on John! We've got work to do!

[Sherlock turns around with flare and both John and Sherlock leave Molly's lab.]

[Sherlock and John are in Gregg Lestrade's office in Scotland Yard. John is sitting at his desk whilst Sherlock is standing next to him and Gregg is on the other side of the desk staring at Sherlock.]

Greg; Sherlock, why are you in your pyjamas?

Sherlock: I needed my violin.

[Sherlock gives a hand gesture for Greg to give his violin back.]

Greg: You can have it once you solve the case.

Sherlock: Solve?

Greg: Help! I mean help.

Sherlock: Violin.

Greg: No. I told you. After the case.

Sherlock: Violin.

Greg: No.

Sherlock: Do you want my help or not? Violin. Now.

Greg: There's no arguing with you is there?

Sherlock: No not really.

[Greg opens his desk draw and hands Sherlock his violin.]

Sherlock: Now that weren't too hard now was it. Give me details for this case then.

Greg: Well. As far as we can gather, a girl around 15 - 16 called Georgia in Great Yarmouth. Was out last night, round her girlfriend's house for something they call 'Games Night'. Her girlfriend walked her home. When her mum got home after a weekend away in Yorkshire to meet family, she went into her room and all there was left of her was her decapitated head in the middle of her room. No-one has the faintest clue of what's going on.

John: Well that's simple.

Sherlock: How?

John: Her girlfriend did it.

Sherlock: It's not Cluedo John, and sometimes it's not always the simplest answer.

Greg: If you want to take the case. Catch the train from London to Great Yarmouth tomorrow at 6 am.

John: Don't worry. We'll be there.

Sherlock: We'll be there? Don't I get a say?

John: Yes, of corse. Why? Don't you want to come?

[Sherlock glances at John.]

Sherlock: Of corse. Your blog will be boring without me.

[Sherlock smiles and laughs, while John just smirks, sniggers and rolls his eyes. Greg just stands there in disbelieve and and raises an eyebrow at their bizarre behaviour.]

[Scene fades into a black screen and fades back to next scene.]

[John and Sherlock are sitting opposite each other at a window seat on a train at 8:30.]

[Sherlock is wearing his usual clothes - ebony cotton full length coat (buttoned up), ivory silk shirt (all buttoned up with the exception of the top two buttons), navy blue scarf (tucked into his coat), black trousers, cotton socks and glistening well shined shoes with neatly done up laces and black faux leather gloves and matching belt. John on the other hand, asleep in his chair on the train, wearing a red, white and green checkered shirt, black leather jacket (partially zipped up), maroon skinny jeans, brown leather belt with matching shoes and grey socks.]

Sherlock: John.

John: [No response.]

Sherlock: John... John!

John: (Eyes still closed as he is still half asleep.)

Hmm...

Sherlock: Wake up.

John: I am. Are we there yet?

Sherlock: No.

John: Why did you wake me up for?

(Yawns)

Sherlock: I wanted to find out what you thought of the case.

John: It's really bizarre. I've never heard anything like it.

Sherlock: No, me neither. How was your sleep?

John: It. Was Good. Thanks.

Sherlock: You wouldn't stop moaning and saying my name.

John: Oh God!

[John places his head in his hands.]

Sherlock: You said that as well.

John: I know how this sounds. I. I had a nightmare. Moriarty. Jim Moriarty. I dreamt that he murdered you.

{Almost in tears.}

And it was all my fault.

Sherlock: It's never your fault.

John: Sherlock. It felt so real.

Sherlock: They always do. That's why they're dreams John. There're NOT real.

John: I have a feeling. Do you think Moriarty is behind this?

Sherlock: No, not his style.

[Scene fades out to a black screen. Then fades back to new scene.]

[Sherlock and John are standing outside of a semidetached house in the middle of a newly built estate with their suitcases either side of each other and John is also wearing a man bag which went over his left shoulder. Police tape surrounding the house and the inhabitants next door are being evacuated out of their home. Police, detectives, a forensic team, photographers and press are all rushing around, making phone calls, taking photos, taking down notes etc.]

Sherlock: You ready?

John: I believe so.

[An detective inspector approaches Sherlock and John.]

Detective Inspector: Hello, my name is DI Ford. I'm in charge of this whole operation. Detective Sherlock Holmes and Army Doctor John Watson. I've heard such good things about you two. Apparently your the best.

Sherlock: We're flattered. Does any of your 'team' mind looking after our suit cases until we're done?

DI Ford: Fine.

[DI Ford turns to the left of John an Sherlock and raises his head above them.]

DI Ford: Forensic Inspector Johnston! Come here now!

[Forensic Inspector Johnston comes along.]

Forensic Inspector Johnston: Yes sir. You called.

DI Ford: Take these cases. What's inside these cases are top secret, do not. I repeat do not open them. Keep them in the van. They'll be collected later by specialists.

Forensic Inspector Johnston: Yes sir.

[Forensic Inspector Johnston takes the cases away and places them in a police van.]

Sherlock: Now do your job. Show us the room.

[DI Ford, John and Sherlock start walking closer to the door.]

John: Who was the girl by the way?

DI Ford: Georgia Summers.

Sherlock: And her mother's name?

DI Ford: Jillian Summers. She's over there if you want to speak to her.

[DI Ford indicates with his head to a quivering woman sobbing in an ambulance with a shock blanket around her and both Sherlock and John briefly turn and look towards her and look back at DI Ford.]

Sherlock: No point. She'll be in too much shock.

{Sarcastically.}

Look she's got the blanket and everything. I'll speak to her later.

John: DI Ford can we go in now?

DI Ford: Hope you've got a good stomach, it's quite graphic.

Sherlock: Don't worry. Dr. Watson and I can cope. We've probably seen worse.

DI Ford: What? Like a beheading?

John: Just let us in already.

[DI Ford lets John and Sherlock into the house and leads them to the room.]

[The house is basic and very clean and tidy. All the walls and carpet are plain cream. The house itself is quite boring with the general 'theme' of the home of 'neutral colours' and a 'natural environment'. The carpet is covered in a plastic sheet by the forensics team. There are several detectives from the forensics team taking photos and taking down notes.]

[The Bedroom: The walls are plain cream matching the carpet. Some marks here and there and blue tack dotted around the place. Cherry pink creased curtains hanging either side of the heavily fingerprinted window panes in the centre of the wall opposite of the white wooden door. Pink wooden box at the end of the pink painted metal bed which stored different elements of science equipment. The room is generally quite tidy with the occasional pair of socks, skinny jeans and a leather jacket spread across the floor. The room was quite basic - 4m x 2m x 2m. The bed was in the bottom right corner of the room with a dark oak 2 meter tall wardrobe. Next to the bed was a small bedside table with a lava lamp, Newton's cradle, two alarm clocks and several little reptile and amphibian toys and ornaments. Underneath the bed side table was a shelf and a draw containing various items and objects including a stethoscope. Next to that bed side table is a matching white chest of draws containing underwear and on top is a little silver box with two draws containing several types of medication, next to it is a box of tissues. Next to that chest of draws is larger set of draws plain white and matching to the rest filled with random stuff and a mixture of arts and crafts and the middle draw is missing. At the back of the room is the two of the same white set of draws as the smaller ones side by side with a cream doll's house sitting on top and the roof of this doll's house there is a stack of DVDs, CDs and books and a globe put to the side. The window sill has a line up of several various ornaments including fairies, dragons and unicorns etc. Around the room there are some Lady Gaga posters and other posters which would be associated with a 'nerd' or a 'geek'. Underneath the bed is the missing draw from the larger set of draws filled with books on 'Mythology', 'Demonology', 'Supernatural Beings', 'Pagan and Wiccan History', 'Psychology', books by Darren Brown and a 'Book of Shadows', some Pagan and Wiccan spell and charm books, wands, power pyramids, a Ouija board, tarot cards and other objects related to the paranormal, ghost or demon hunting and magic including a broom, a cauldron and several pendants. On top of the bed is hundreds of teddies and pillows. Over the bed is some low hanging raspberry pink netting directly over the head of the bed. Of corse, bang in the centre of the room a pure white bed sheet with the decapitated head of Georgia sitting on top. A 16 year old girl with beautiful turquoise eyes, mid length thin strawberry blonde hair. Beautiful olive skin with great complexion - now pale from blood loss and her freckles which once covered her face started to fade away.]

[Sherlock and John glance over the room. John is in shock and disgust, while Sherlock appears emotionless and not really surprised.]

DI Ford: Here you go. Enjoy.

John: Thanks.

Sherlock: {Arrogantly.}

Yeah, thanks. Now let me do my work.

DI Ford: {Smugly.}

Don't you want my help? I am the expert after all.

Sherlock: If you was an expert. Why ask for me and John?

DI Ford: {Embarrassed and turning red.}

Good point.

Sherlock: Now go. Please.

John: (Turns to DI Ford.)

That is about as polite as he gets. Take it as a compliment.

[DI Ford leaves the room and John shuts the door behind him.]

Sherlock: God, he was annoying!

John: Worse than Anderson?

Sherlock: {Pauses.}

No. Are you mad? No-ones more annoying than Anderson.

[John gets a pen and a small note pad from his pocket and starts taking down notes and slowly walks round the head. Sherlock is investigating the room, trying to deduct who was Georgia Summers, he gets out his mini magnifier and tape measure and four rubber gloves out of his pocket and passes a pair to John. Sherlock places his remaining pair of gloves on. Then Sherlock gets busy around the room, measuring things, looking through his magnifier, rushing around the room mumbling things that only make sense to himself and pulling through draws, going through possessions, looking under and laying under her bed, skim reading her books and going through her DVD collection.]

John: Any ideas?

Sherlock: 9 so far.

[Sherlock wonders around again.]

Sherlock: 4.

[Sherlock opens her bed side table draw and pulls out her diary and reads it.]

John: Sherlock! That's privet!

Sherlock: John, she's dead. I doubt she'll mind.

John: I wonder sometimes.

Sherlock: Wonder about what?

John: If you have any respect at all.

[Sherlock gives John a stare and John raises his eyebrows - generally concerned for Sherlock's respect for others. Sherlock places her diary in his inside jacket pocket and returns to his place standing next to John and goes on about his deductions.]

John: Deductions?

[Sherlock breaths through his nose deeply.]

Sherlock: {Spoken rapidly and confidently.}

For starters she's a hoarder. Look how many cupboards she has and how much space there is in them.

John: There isn't a lot of space it's just full of stuff.

Sherlock: It's probably a learnt behaviour from her mother.

John: Her mother?

Sherlock: Yes her mother. Observe John. Observe. Every room in his house is spotless, completely spotless. Everything has its place. Never touched, never moved. Except from her room. Georgia doesn't clean it. Her mother can't cope with her room being dusty, so she does the best she can. As Georgia's mother has got OCD, probably from an emotional trigger caused by an past abusive relationship with Georgia's farther.

John: Why does that make Georgia a hoarder?

Sherlock: Growing up with an OCD mother has repelled her emotions towards her on a massive level because growing up with a childhood like hers has been hellish. A child whose life was full of isolation of friends, pets and no one else in the world who could possibly known how she could of felt she felt. She was unconsciously worried of developing OCD herself. So she subconsciously changed her behaviour to become the absolute opposite, so when she had children of her own, they wouldn't be treated like she was. AKA not getting washed with bleach and anti-bacteria wipes every time she came home from a visit from her father's house. But even though she has tried, the learnt behaviour has started to sink in, look at her dolls house John. Nothing in there has been moved since they are placed inside, look high dust build up.

[Sherlock turns and points to the dolls house.]

Sherlock: She has compressed her feelings to clean in order to keep the figures and objects in the same place. The only thing that has moved is this little girl.

[Sherlock opens the dolls house's doors.]

Sherlock: Traditionally the little girl would be in 'her' room, but why is 'she' in the parents room?

[Sherlock picks up the doll and turns it around.]

She's pretty creepy looking. Maybe she moved her from view. I know I wouldn't want her looking at me when I slept. So she's superstitious.

[John completely and utterly mesmerised and stares at Sherlock in shock.]

John: Fantastic! Absolutely and incredibly bloody fantastic!

Sherlock: I know.

John: You got all of that from the neatness and cleanliness of the house, her dolls house and who touches the windows.

Sherlock: Yes and no.

[Sherlock reaches back into his inner coat pocket and retrieves Georgia's diary and places it back in his coat.]

Sherlock: Also, a lot of it was in here.

{Pauses.}

Wait, what do you mean, who touches the windows?

John: I thought that was pretty obvious.

Sherlock: How?

[John looks up to the ceiling with the biggest grin on his face and laughs in a smug way. He looks back at Sherlock's face and laughs even more. He drops his arms and smiles at him, feeling pretty pleased with himself.]

John: You really don't know, do you?

Sherlock: If I did, I wouldn't be asking. Please John. Tell me, I hate not knowing!

John: This. This is hilarious. The world's best detective and the world's only consultive detective no less - is stuck. Imagine what Anderson would say if he found out?

Sherlock: Don't care.

John: Greg?

Sherlock: Still. Don't care.

John: {Smirks and raises his head.}

Oh yeah, what about. Mycroft?

Sherlock: {Angrily.}

No. Don't. Don't you dare. Don't you even think about it.

John: Enough torment. Should I just tell you?

Sherlock: {Calmer.}

Yes please.

John: Oh, I've been waiting for this day for a while now.

Sherlock: Just get on with it.

[John places his notepad and pen back in his pocket.]

John: Theres fingerprints on the window pane. Large fingerprints. Most likely her mum's.

Sherlock: How do we know they aren't hers? We've only got her head.

John: The size of a human's brain can be shown by putting your two fists together.

[John demonstrates.]

John: She's sixteen right?

Sherlock: Yes, so.

John: Her skull is quite small, smaller than most sixteen year olds. This indicates her cranium was small and underdeveloped which also shows that the rest of her was underdeveloped as well. Probably caused by a physically restricting medical condition like a muscle wasting disease or ME influenced by an inactive gland condition, most likely thyroid. That explains the Thyroxine.

[John shows Sherlock the medication cabinet and goes through her medication.]

Sherlock: If you work out the size of her brain and half it. You can estimate the size of her hands and most importantly fingerprint size. So your right John. Those aren't the fingerprints of Georgia's they're her mother's. So she wasn't allowed to touch the windows because they were considered 'dirty' to the mother. If she were to touch them she would have to be 'washed'.

John: Any other deductions?

Sherlock: Yes. She is afraid of the dark and needs closer.

[Sherlock points to the pink netting over the head of the bed.]

Sherlock: She's a fan of Lady Gaga.

[Sherlock points out the posters and drawings dotted around the room.]

Sherlock: Bit more of a fan actually. More of an idol, Georgia obviously looks up to her and as she's a 'Little Monster' she probably sees her as her 'Queen' this also indicates, she's apart of the LGBTQI community, most likely bisexual and was with a girlfriend. And probably really socially and physically insecure and has depression and social anxiety.

[Sherlock turns to John.]

Sherlock: Weren't you taking down notes?

John: Oh yes. I forgot.

[John quickly gets his notepad and pen back out of his leather coat pocket and starts to jot down notes.]

Sherlock: Pagan.

John: Sorry?

[Sherlock walks back over to the bed and pulls the draw out.]

Sherlock: She's pagan. As in the religion Paganism or Shamanism. Much more than superstitious. Look under her bed. A whole draw full of books and other 'magical' equipment. She must of believed she was a 'witch' or a 'Wiccan' with that amount of wands. Explains her lack of sleep.

John: How do you know she doesn't sleep well?

Sherlock: Look under her eyes. There's multiple bags under her eyes. As she's superstitious, she believes that her room is haunted causing her to be afraid of the dark and the pink netting over her bed states that she needs closer and she doesn't feel comfortable to sleep on her own because of her close emotional bondage towards her mother. She can't stand being on her own. So every night she struggles to sleep depending what she's read and what she has watched because the fictional life she shares with the characters becomes her reality.

John: So everything she reads or watches she subconsciously believes is real. So for example she watches a a series of Supernatural and stores salt under her bed.

Sherlock: Or reads the Harry Potter series a few times too many and convinces herself she's a witch.

John: It might not be a lack of sleep.

Sherlock: Why not?

John: It might be the fact she has epilepsy.

Sherlock: How do you know she had epilepsy?

John: Tegeratol. There's Tegeratol in her medication cabinet. Her brain activity is higher than most meaning that when she sleeps, she dreams. Pretty exiting dreams as far as I can gather.

[John points to the bed side table.]

John: Dream journal. When you dream your more likely to be more tired in the morning because your mind and body hasn't fully rested. Plus she's anaemic. Iron tablets. She has a low pain tolerance, she takes regular painkillers: co-codimal, ibuprofen and paracetamol. But without examining the body I can't tell if she's got any muscle or joint problems.

Sherlock: Joint problems?

John: Yes, she takes three different vitamin and mineral supplements.

[John picks up the bottles and hands them to Sherlock.]

[Sherlock looks at John and gives him a smile.]

Sherlock: When have you been so good at deducting?

John: After living with you for four years on and off. You know. You sort of. Died. And was. Sort of. Dead. For two. Whole. Years.

Sherlock: I'm sorry.

John: I know. You know. You pick up a few things.

Sherlock:{Blushing and slightly embarrassed.}

I'm touched.

[Sherlock and John stare deeply into each others eyes for a few seconds. Then Sherlock rudely interrupts this action by looking away and moves over to the bed.]

[Sherlock pushes the draw back under the bed.]

Sherlock: She's a person of whom society would call a 'nerd' or a 'geek'. Her DVDs are either fantasy, science fiction, zombie horror or historical. Look John, Marvel and DC Comic's posters

[Sherlock points to those posters as well.]

Sherlock: She has several Manga books, suggesting she's into anime. She has box sets of her favourite tv shows for example Doctor Who, Merlin, Supernatural, The Walking Dead and The Big Bang Theory etc. Even though she's apart of many 'fandoms', her favourite fandom has to be the Harry Potter series.

John: How do you know this?

Sherlock: She has all the books in the series and the box set of DVDs. All have been read and watched more than enough times. She has most of the memorabilia and has a chocolate frog (unopened and kept in perfect condition) from the Harry Potter Studios in London, which she has been twice, no three times. This probably influenced her decision of becoming a pagan. So she could become a witch like Hermione.

John: Do you think 'Harry Potter' is linked to this?

Sherlock: Could be. Think about it 'Nearly Headless Nick'. This is 'Really Headless Georgia'.

[Sherlock chuckles at his own joke.]

John: Any other deductions?

Sherlock: Plenty. She's an adrenaline junkie look at the fridge magnet ride photos she has on her radiator - Alton Towers. Family favourite holiday destination for years.

John: She likes her science. Maybe it's a hobby.

Sherlock: Maybe. I think it's something more. It was what she wanted to do.

John: What?

Sherlock: I don't understand how other people think in their tiny little heads of there's. It would annoy me so much. John please for God's sake, observe! How could you miss it!

John: {Snorts.}

You missed the window!

Sherlock: The window was unimportant!

John: {Sarcastically.}

Of corse it wasn't, because Sherlock Holmes the great detective is always right.

{Smugly.}

Your just jealous that I deducted something that you didn't get.

Sherlock: {In denial, embarrassment and arrogantly.}

No.

[Sherlock turns away from John.]

Sherlock: Look around you John. She clearly loves animals. Especially reptiles and amphibians. She has an interest in dinosaurs.

John: That could be useful.

[Sherlock turns back to John.]

Sherlock:Yes! Yes it is! She has an interest in palaeontology! Favourite film with the exception of the Harry Potter series, Jurassic Park!

[Sherlock and John both look at the head.]

John: {In sympathy.}

I'm guessing she wanted to become a palaeontologist.

[Sherlock gets on the floor. Face to face with the head.]

Sherlock: She would of made a bloody good one as well.

[Sherlock examines the head. Then he rolls the head to see where it was beheaded.]

Sherlock: Someone loves her.

John: I love Mary, but I wouldn't suddenly decapitate her.

Sherlock: You would if you had to. But that isn't what I meant. This murderer obviously loved her. As in the murderer killed her before she was decapitated.

[Sherlock gets on his knees and picks up the head and places on his lap.]

Sherlock: Look John, small slit underneath the at the very top of the throat. That's what killed her.

[Sherlock traces his finger along the slit in the throat.]

Sherlock: Small penknife. Blunt. Used for carving. Quite regularly. Sloppy work. This isn't your typical murderer, John. This is their first time. Look round the edging of the face. The skin is peeling off. Ripped almost. She was skinned.

John: Who skins a dead person?

Sherlock: A first time murderer that's who. This person has never murdered someone before and doesn't want to be caught. Getting rid of the skin and clothes to get rid of the evidence and his or her finger prints and DNA.

John: Sherlock, we're missing out on something. Something simple.

[Both of them hold a long pause.]

John: Where was she killed? Where's the blood?

[Sherlock turns the head upside down and feels where the head was decapitated.]

Sherlock: {Spoken slowly.}

How could I be so stupid? John, feel here.

[Sherlock indicates where to touch on the neck.]

John: I'm not one for touching a decapitated head.

Sherlock: John, just feel it. Look!

[Sherlock takes of his rubber gloves and flicks the base of the head where it has been decapitated.]

Sherlock: I'm no expert but I don't think this is coagulated blood John. Feel.

John: I'd rather not.

Sherlock: Your a doctor! Deal with it!

John: I believe you!

Sherlock: {Angry and frustrated.}

Take your bloody gloves off and feel it!

[John feels where the head used to be attached to the neck.]

John: {Genuinely shocked and surprised.}

Your right Sherlock. It doesn't feel like blood at all. It's waxy. Why is it waxy?

Sherlock: Because she's Pagan.

John: What's her religion got to with this?

[Sherlock stands back up, places the head back on the sheet, walks towards the bed and pulls the draw back out from under the bed and gets out the brief case from amongst the stuff.]

Sherlock: If I'm right she would of practised magic. Candle magic.

[Sherlock opens the brief case to revel rows of different coloured candle magic candles all in tact with only one missing - the bright red one, second from the end.]

Sherlock: John! John! Look what we have here!

[John approaches Sherlock, stands next to him and stares at the briefcase with Sherlock.]

Sherlock: Oh. Cleaver, cleaver murderer.

[Sherlock puts his hands in the steeple position under his chin.]

Sherlock: So, we know she wasn't killed in here. She was murdered somewhere close by. Then she was skinned. And her skin and clothes are destroyed. But the murderer is skilled in carving and wax melting, a candle maker. He or she is very cleaver. They got rid of the DNA and evidence and made sure none of the blood would drip everywhere by melting wax on the open decapitation wound. The head was then carried by the hair so no fingerprints was transferred to the face.

John: Very cleaver.

Sherlock: Cleaver. Indeed.

John: But this only answers one of my questions. Where was she killed?

[Sherlock runs round to the other side of the head and lays on the ground. Face to face with the head.]

Sherlock: Where were you murdered? Why bring you here? Why not leave you? Why did he or she even decapitate you? What did you do to deserve this?

John: Sherlock?

Sherlock: Hmm.

[Sherlock lifts his head to see a crossed armed John feeling concerned for his mental welfare.]

John: Out of all of the things I've seen you say or do. This. This has to be the weirdest.

Sherlock: Why?

[John crouches down to Sherlock's level.]

John: {Whispers.}

Because your talking to a decapitated head.

{Mumbles.}

It's like 'Lord Of The Flies' all over again.

[Sherlock's head lowers back down to Georgia's head. His arms go out in front of him and he squishes her cheeks with his fingers.]

Sherlock: You read 'Lord Of The Flies'?

[John stands back up.]

John: Yes. Childhood favourite.

Sherlock: I read it too. Boring. My childhood favourite was 'Clarissa, or, the History of a Young Lady'.

John: That's 1,534 pages.

Sherlock: Yes, and one glorious summer.

[Sherlock's eyes squint and stare at Georgia's mouth.]

Sherlock: John, put your gloves back on.

[Sherlock gets back on his knees and so does John.]

John: Why?

Sherlock: There's something in her mouth.

John: Pardon?

Sherlock: There's something in her mouth. John your the doctor here. Put your gloves back on and slowly open her jaw.

[Sherlock and John replace their gloves and Sherlock lays the head down, with the mouth facing the ceiling. Sherlock and John are kneeling opposite each other with the head in between them. John reaches forward and grabs the jaw and clicks it out of socket and opens the mouth. Inside the mouth of Georgia is a scrunched up Polaroid photo. The picture is of Georgia's skinned and headless body strapped attach to a chair in the 'dungeon' that we saw at the start of the episode.]

John: {Swallows deeply and spoken slowly.}

There's a photo in her mouth. Sherlock.

[Sherlock and John give each other a stare.]

Sherlock: A photo?

John: Yes, a photo. What do I do?

Sherlock: Take it out.

John: I'm not putting my hand in a dead persons mouth.

Sherlock: Yes, yes you are.

John: No I'm not.

Sherlock: Your a doctor. I'm sure you've put your fingers in plenty of people's mouths before.

John: Not dead people. Let alone a child's.

Sherlock: Just pull it out.

[John's eyes water and takes a few deep breaths and swallows again. John puts his hand into the 'paper' position as if he was playing 'Rock, Paper, Scissors.' and enters his hand into the mouth of Georgia and grabbed the piece of paper.]

John: Oh God! This is so wrong.

[John pulls out his hand containing the picture.]

John: Glad that's over.

Sherlock: Gimme.

[Sherlock holds his hand out. John passes him the scrunched up photo.. Sherlock unwraps the photo and looks at it. There is writing on the back and John tries to read it.]

John: 'Her Skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.'.

[Sherlock's head raises above the photo and looks at John.]

Sherlock: What did you say?

John: 'Her Skeleton will lie in the chamber forever.'.

Sherlock: I don't understand.

John: Look on the back.

Sherlock: That's a reference to 'Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets'. So whoever killed her was obviously very close to her to know either know what her favourite fandom was or they shared the same fandom.

[Sherlock stuffs the photo in his jacket pocket and stands up.]

Sherlock: This is an invitation. An invitation to where the body is. John get up. We've got what we've came for. John, we may be here for some time. We need to find where she is.

[John gets up and brushes himself off.]

John: Right. So where do you think she is.

[Sherlock gets his phone out and goes on the Internet to do some research.]

Sherlock: What did I say earlier? She likes history! Look she has almost every book and DVD documentary on all of the world's history.

John: No you didn't say earlier.

Sherlock: Oh whatever! John do some research tonight on dungeons and tombs in Norfolk.

John: Why can't you do it?

Sherlock: I'm on TripAdvisor. I need to find a B&B for us to stay at for a couple of weeks.

John: A couple of weeks?

Sherlock: Yes John, a couple of weeks, God it's like living with a parrot in a echoing room. Com'on let's go.

[John and Sherlock leave the room and enter the landing. DI Ford is standing by the door still waiting for Sherlock and John.]

DI Ford: Got anything?

{Embarrassed.}

Or stuck? Like us.

Sherlock: Yes we have got something. John rip out your notes and pass them to DI Ford.

John: Wont you need them?

Sherlock: No, no. I took mental notes and plus I've got a photographic and eidetic memory.

[John rips out his notes and passes them to DI Ford. DI Ford analyses each of the pages of the notes.]

DI Ford: Wow! I'm impressed!

[Sherlock grins smugly.]

Sherlock: Corse you are. It's me your talking about.

John: That's as modest as he's going to get.

DI Ford: Can't believe it! We have had forensics team after forensics team, detective after detective and several specialists and experts in that room for two going on three days now and received nothing. You two go in there, no more than a couple of minutes and you guys get all the answers. You guys are incredible.

[John is starting to blush bright red.]

John: Thank you, but to be honest.

[John turns to Sherlock.]

John: He did most of the work.

[Sherlock turns to John and smiles.]

Sherlock: I can't take all the credit. I couldn't of done it without my blogger.

DI Ford: Well thanks anyway, I'm guessing you guys would like to go and do some investigating.

John: Yeah, as long as we get our suitcases back.

Sherlock: Yes, yes. Keep those notes. Is there anyone you would like us to tell the news to?

DI Ford: No. Only family needs to be told. If anyone wants to know they'll find out themselves.

Sherlock: I'm not one for human emotions but that's a little inhumane don't you think?

DI Ford: We had a psychologist in yesterday to inspect the room and to talk to her mother. She said that the girl had no proper friends, kept herself to herself, had no social life - real or otherwise, isolated herself in this room and bullied by many.

Sherlock: {Mumbles under his breath.}

Moron.

DI Ford: Pardon?

Sherlock: I said.

[John grabs his wrist and squeezes and John turns to him.]

John: {Whispers.}

Don't.

Sherlock: {Clearly and obviously lying but only picked up on by John.}

I said, I would love to learn MORE ON this girl but as it turns out she had no friends and you can't argue with a psychologist. They'll play their Jedi mind tricks on you.

[John releases Sherlock's wrist.]

John: {Whispers.}

Thank you.

DI Ford: Right, I think you two should be going now.

John: Yes, I think we should.

[DI Ford follows John and Sherlock down the stairs and out the front door.]

DI Ford: Johnston! Cases, now!

Forensic Investigator Johnston: {From a distance.}

Yes, sir! Right away, sir!

John: Was he in the army before he joined the force?

DI Ford: No, he just failed the mental health exam.

John: Right.

[Forensic Investigator Johnston comes over with the cases and passes them to DI Ford.]

Forensic Investigator Johnston: The cases, sir! Here you go, sir! Am I dismissed, sir?

DI Ford: Thank you Johnston. Yes, you are dismissed.

Forensic Investigator Johnston: Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!

[Forensic Investigator Johnston walks away to get back to his work. DI Ford hands Sherlock and John their suitcases.]

DI Ford: Thank you for coming out of your way. You've helped us so much.

John: Your very welcome.

DI Ford: My pleasure.

Sherlock: No, the pleasure was ours. We better be off.

[DI Ford, Sherlock and John all shake hands.]

[Sherlock and John start walking away with their cases trailing behind them, with their heads held high and smiles from ear to ear.]

John: Your not going to tell them we're going to see her girlfriend are you?

Sherlock: Nope.

John: Your not going to tell them any important information are you?

Sherlock: No.

John: Your not going to them how wrong that psychologist was?

Sherlock: Of corse not.

John: Your not going to give that diary back are you?

Sherlock: What do you think?

John: Are we only doing this to show off?

Sherlock: John, don't ask questions you already know the answers to. It's bad detective work.

[John and Sherlock burst out in hysterical laughter. A hand grabs Sherlock's shoulder and both Sherlock and John stop and turn round to face the owner of he hand.]

Sherlock: Jillian I presume?

Jillian: Yes.

{Sternly.}

Get him Mr. Holmes. Get him and take him to justice.

Sherlock: Who are you talking about?

Jillian: {Swallows.}

Her farther.

John: Why? Why would he kill her?

Jillian: Because he's a psycho! It's something he would do. He went to prison 5 years ago he got released last month. He's a mad man.

Sherlock: Why did he go prison?

Jillian: Dunno. We've had nothing to do with him since her birth. From what I heard, it was either necrophilia or rape. We got no proper explanation or answer from the police.

Sherlock: And your sure he's behind this.

Jillian: {Sternly and confidently.}

Very.

John: We'll do our best.

Jillian: {Fiercely.}

It better be good enough.

Sherlock: You stayed in Yorkshire for the week. For family I heard.

Jillian: Yes. What about it?

Sherlock: Don't lie. You went for a week away with Steve.

Jillian: {Gobsmacked.}

How? How did you know about Steve?

Sherlock: Who goes away to see family without their daughter? Unless you two wanted privacy.

Jillian: What about Steve?

[Sherlock reaches back into his jacket pocket and pulls out Georgia's diary.]

Sherlock: All in here.

Jillian: {Ferociously.}

That's my daughter's diary!

[Jillian goes to snatch the diary out of Sherlock's hands but he quickly raises his arm out of Jillian's reach.]

Sherlock: No, no. It's evidence and now belongs to Scotland Yard.

[Sherlock places the diary back in his pocket.]

Jillian: Your a monster.

Sherlock: No, no. Ms. Summers. The real monster here is the animal who killed your daughter. Now, let us be on our way.

[John shakes her hand in sympathy.]

John: I'm sorry for your loss.

[John and Sherlock carry on walking until they get to the road. Sherlock calls for a taxi on his phone.]

Sherlock: Yes, yes. Two people. Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson. 5 Kings Drive, Bradwell, Great Yarmouth. Yes. No. Gorelston Library. Yes please - thank you. The taxi will be here in five minutes.

John: So what now?

Sherlock: We go to the library and be nerds.

John: {Confused.}

I don't follow.

Sherlock: Research, we're going to read every book on the history of Norfolk. We need to find out on every tomb, dungeon chamber in Norfolk. We need to go through map after map and find every church and chapel in East Anglia. We have to ind that body John.

John: I've got a feeling we're going to be here longer than a couple of weeks.

[The taxi turns up driven by an italian migrant. Sherlock and John enter and put on their seat belts.]

Taxi Driver: You two Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson? Eh?

John: Yes.

Taxi Driver: Gorelston Library? Eh?

Sherlock: Yes.

Taxi Driver: You both going? Eh?

Sherlock: Yes, yes now drive.

[The taxi driver starts to drive.]

Taxi Driver: Ok. You two together? Eh?

John: Pardon?

Taxi Driver: You know. You two guys. Together? Eh?

[Sherlock tries to interrupt John but he is too reluctant.]

John: Yeah. Yeah, I suppose so.

Taxi Driver: So? Let me guess. Anniversary? You two on Anniversary? Eh?

John: No! No. Not Anniversary.

Taxi Driver: Ahh. Not Anniversary. Huh? Honeymoon? You two on honeymoon! Countryside, good place for honeymoon. Eh?

[Sherlock is laughing quietly in John's humiliation.]

John: {Completely and utterly embarrassed and humiliated.}

No! No! No honeymoon! We are not together. Yes, we're together, but as in we are working together because we are friends. Not together, romantically.

[Sherlock looks at John with uncontrollable laughter. But manages to keep calm whilst talking to John.]

Sherlock: Yes, and don't forget we live together.

John: Sherlock, not helping.

Taxi Driver: Definitely gay. Eh?

John: I am not gay!

Sherlock: {Coughs under his breath.}

Denial.

John: Says the man who's never had sex. Plus, I've got a wife and she's bloody pregnant.

Taxi Driver: Look I don't care if you are or not. Gay is cool in my country. If I didn't have my Jenny. I'll turn for you skinny. Eh?

[John turns to Sherlock and leans over to him.]

John: {Whispers.}

I think he's talking to you.

Sherlock: {To John awkwardly biting his tung.}

No comment.

Taxi Driver: Yeah, I'll go for a bit of you, bit of Curly. Eh?

Sherlock: Oh God.

John: Hey, Curley.

[Sherlock's checks flush ruby red filled with embarrassment.]

Sherlock: Shut up. Please.

John: Not so funny now.

Sherlock: Shut up or do I have to make you?

John: Ok. Whatever you say. {Pause.} Curley.

[After a few minutes of awkward silence later the taxi stops.]

Taxi Driver: We have reached your destination. That'll be ten euro. Eh?

Sherlock and John (together): Euro?

Taxi Driver: Sorry. Ten pounds. Eh?

[John gets his wallet out of his right coat pocket and pays the driver with a ten pound note.]

Taxi Driver: Thank you. Have nice day! Eh?

John: Thanks.

[Sherlock and John unbuckles their seat belts and leave the taxi and they enter the library silently and awkwardly.]

Sherlock: Not a word on Curley. Not a word. That stays between us.

John: Not a word on who, I may ask.

Sherlock: That's why your my best friend John.

John: {Happily and smiling.}

I'm your best friend?

Sherlock: {Surprised and joyful.}

Yes. Yes, you are. I can't believe you didn't know. Before I met you. I. I had no friends. Not really. Since you entered my life, I've became more. More human. More real.

John: {Emotionally..}

I didn't know you felt that way about me.

Sherlock: {Smiling.}

Of corse I do.

John: {Rubs his hands together.}

Right lets get started.

[Sherlock and John walk over to the reception desk.]

Sherlock: Hello?

[Librarian is a young 17 year old girl on work experience, listening to music on her phone whilst on Facebook with her feet on the desk. Sherlock looks at the librarian's name badge.]

Sherlock: Hello Jazza.

Jazza: Yeah, 'ello? Err. Who are ya? An' wha' you wan'? 'Ow can I 'elp?

Sherlock: My name is Sherlock Holmes. His name is Dr. John Watson. And you can help us by showing us where your history section is.

Jazza: Err. Back of the room. I think.

Sherlock: Thank you.

[Sherlock go to the back of the room where Jazza directed. John sits down at a table and sets up his laptop whilst Sherlock is going from bookshelf to bookshelf filling his arms full of books that either referenced history or Norfolk in the title. Sherlock then places the books on the table in front of John and sits opposite him.]

Sherlock: John, hand me that laptop.

John: Why?

Sherlock: I need to do some privet research.

John: On what?

Sherlock: Didn't you hear the word privet? Plus John, your going to be studying those books. You can't read books and use a laptop at the same time.

John: Why are you so arrogant?

Sherlock: Look I'm not as arrogant as I used to be. As I said earlier - you've changed me, I'm a better man because of you.

John: Cute. But there's no need to butter me up.

Sherlock: You can read me like a book.

[John laughs.]

John: Good joke Sherlock.

Sherlock: I don't understand what you mean.

John: Seriously?

Sherlock: Seriously.

John: It's funny because you made a book pun and we're in a library.

Sherlock: Oh, I didn't realise. Right lets get started then.

[The John looks above Sherlock to see the clock on the wall, it's 8:20. After a 'time lapse' shown of Sherlock and John in the library reading books, taking turns on the laptop, studying maps and reading coffee. The camera points back at the clock and the clock shows 6:45. The camera points back to John and Sherlock sitting at the table covered in several maps of Norfolk (old and new), stacks of books on the floor and table. Some hard back history books open on random double pages. Several takeaway coffee cups, and subway rappers scattered around the table and floor. John is tired, frustrated and reading old local newspapers. Sherlock doesn't look at all tired or frustrated and is quite calm and relaxed, on John's laptop doing his 'privet' research.]

John: Sherlock, we have been here for hours can we go now?

Sherlock: Almost.

John: What have you been doing?

Sherlock: Research.

John: I know your doing 'privet' research. But what is it may I ask?

Sherlock: It's quite boring.

John: It can't be any worse than what I've done.

Sherlock: If you really want to know. I've been doing research on Georgia and her family. Medical records, education, banking status, general background etc.

John: What have you found out?

[Sherlock closes the laptop lid down.]

Sherlock: Your right Georgia has a lot of medical conditions. Everything like you said. They've moved 8 times in the last 16 years. In a lot of debt - at least 3 loans, an overdraft, 5 credit cards and a mortgage. Over 10 grand Jillian owes spread across 4 banks. Georgia on the other hand has a YouTube account, with 1285 subscribers, 568 comments, 89 shares and 872 likes. Quite popular. Her mother, a schizophrenic. Born in Essex, lived in London. Georgia only moved down here 5 years ago from Yorkshire with her father.

John: With her father? I thought he was in prison and they never had anything to do with him.

Sherlock: Yes, she lived with her father all her life with the occasional visit to her mothers every other weekend. He was a land lord. When she was 5 they had to move to Yorkshire for work. They lived there happily for 5 years. Then he committed manslaughter. He went to jail. Georgia and her mother moved down here. For a 'fresh start' I guess.

John: So the mother's a liar.

Sherlock: Yes, and delusional.

John: She got past you?

Sherlock: Hmm.

John: Can we go now? I'm tired and really bored.

[Sherlock passes John his laptop back.]

Sherlock: I guess your right.

[Sherlock stands up and folds one of the maps up and places it in his inside right jacket pocket.]

John: That's stealing.

Sherlock: I know.

John: You know what? I'm too tired to argue.

Sherlock: It's only quarter to Severn.

John: Yeah and I've been up since 5 this morning.

Sherlock: Lucky. I haven't slept since 7 yesterday morning.

John: Let's go.

[Sherlock and John pick up their stuff and pack away. And leave the books, newspapers, maps and rubbish on, underneath and around the table and leave the library. The screen fades out and fades back to Sherlock and John sitting in a taxi. After a short taxi journey they reach the B&B by the quiet end of the beach 'The White Lodge'.]

[The White Lodge is a little Georgian 12 bedroom house beautifully themed around countryside and the natural world.]

[Sherlock and John stand by the large wooden door, and Sherlock rings the bell. A Staffordshire bull terrier is heard barking in the distance.]

Woman's voice: {Behind the door.}

Oh George, shut up.

[The dog 'George' stops barking and a unlocking noise is made by the door and it opens to reveal a little middle aged lady in her early fifties, tired, and hair dyed several times, wearing an apron and a yellow dusting cloth in her right hand and a anti-bacterial spray in the other.]

Woman: Hello, come in, come in. How can I help you guys?

Sherlock: I'm a detective Sherlock Holmes and my friend here is Dr. John H. Watson. We sort of work for Scotland Yard. And we are investigating a case down here in Great Yarmouth. And we believe that this investigation may last a couple of weeks. Even with our expertise.

Woman: {Sarcastically.}

Modest, I like your style.

John: Seriously, it is the most you are going to get out of him.

Woman: I can gather.

John: Basically, we would like somewhere to stay semi-permanently. Until we get back to London. According to Sherlock, you have the best reviews on TripAdvisor, if Sherlock approves, I approve.

Woman: Well, my name is Jean, since you didn't ask. My husband Eddie,

[A distant 'Hello!' in a deep Yorkshire ascent is herd.]

Jean: and this here,

[She looks down by her legs as her dog patters his way next to her.]

Jean: this is George. Are you boys dog people?

John: No, more of a cat person.

[Sherlock crouches down and calls George over and 'fusses' over him.]

Sherlock: I love dogs! I had a dog myself when I was a boy. An Irish Setter named Redbeard. Pirate Redbeard. My brother Mycroft didn't like him that much. But he was my dog, not his.

[Sherlock stands back up and George goes over to John and jumps up at him and starts licking his face.]

John: Down boy. Down. Down. George off.

Jean: He likes you. That's rare for him to like cat people.

John: Don't kiss me. No, not my mouth.

[John pushes George off him.]

Jean: He'll grow on you.

John: I don't think so.

[George walks off into the kitchen. Jean walks behind the reception desk and sits down in her office chair and starts working on her computer.]

Jean: So you guys want a couple of rooms?

John: Yes please.

Jean: For how long?

Sherlock: We believe, a couple of weeks maybe longer.

Jean: You know that's £80 a night, right?

Sherlock: I'm well aware, I already did my research.

Jean: Bad news boys. Only one room left, I'm all booked up.

[Sherlock and John glance at each other and nod like if they just communicate through telepathy, then they look back at Jean.]

Sherlock: Yeah, that's fine with us. We're happy to share.

John: We used live together back in London, if you know what I mean.

Jean: You know the room that's left hasn't got two single beds.

John and Sherlock {Together}: Pardon?

Jean: It's a double. But as you said, you two don't mind sharing together, coz you know. You two. Two guys. A couple of guys.

[John and Sherlock stare at her emotionless and not understanding what she's suggesting.]

John: I'm not getting your gist here.

Sherlock: Can you please explain? As far as I can gather, we don't understand what your implying.

Jean: Really? Two intelligent men like yourselves not getting this? My implication is that you two are gay.

John: I am not gay!

[Jean stands up, lowers her glasses onto her nose and crosses her arms.]

Jean: What about your friend here? Hay? You work with him, he's your his best friend and you used live with him, a little suspicious. Plus Sherlock, how comes you don't go into denial like John.

Sherlock: She makes good observations John. If you were, these would make obvious indicators.

John: You have known me for how long?

Sherlock: 5 years.

John: When have I ever came across as.. gay?

Sherlock: Well... You have your moments.

[The scene cuts to John and Sherlock awkwardly and quietly sitting up in bed together. Sherlock is in navy blue silk pyjamas and a matching cotton dressing gown and slippers and sitting on the right side of the bed and watching rubbish late night television with his head resting on John's right shoulder. John is sitting on the left of Sherlock in sky blue pyjamas and grey socks and his laptop on his lap and being charged in the process. The room is small and seaside themed with pictures and ornaments. The walls and carpet is cream, the main features of the room are turquoise. There is a small pale blue door that leads to a tiny bathroom which just about fits a shower, a toilet and a sink.]

John: I wish you wouldn't be this close to me.

Sherlock: Why not?

John: It's uncomfortable.

Sherlock: It's not for me.

John: Sherlock, what are we doing tomorrow?

Sherlock: We're going to do, what we do best, John.

John: Which is?

Sherlock: Consultive detecting, John, for now and for always. Me and you against the world.

John: I think that someone needs to get some sleep, it's quite obvious that late night TV has ruined your brain.

Sherlock: I think your right John.

[Sherlock grabs the TV remote from his bedside table and turns the TV off.]

John: Before you go to sleep take a look at this.

Sherlock: No, I don't want to look at your blog John.

John: No, no. Look history tours around Norfolk. We could do them within the next few weeks.

[Sherlock looks at Johns laptop screen sleepily.]

Sherlock: Save those websites to your favourites. We'll need them later. But tomorrow..

[Sherlock yawns like a kitten.]

Sherlock: we're going to see Georgia's friends, family and most importantly her girlfriend. Bring tissues, it's going to be emotional.

John: {Jokingly.}

I didn't know you had emotions.

{In a caring manner.}

Goodnight Sherlock.

[Sherlock leans over and kisses John on his right cheek lightly.]

Sherlock: Goodnight John.

[John is still staring at his laptop screen. Sherlock rolls over and curls into the embryo position in shame and cocoons the duvet around him.]

John: {Shocked and confused.}

What was that?

Sherlock: A kiss goodnight, deal with it.

[Sherlock reaches over to his bed side table and turns off his lamp. Whilst John is still staring in shock at his laptop screen in almost total darkness, with the light from his laptop screen illuminating his face.]

[The scene fades out to John's nightmare.]

[Jim Moriarty is standing in the corner of the B&B bedroom in a tuxedo holding a butcher's knife in his left hand, smiling and giggling in a demonic way. John is sat up and awake in bed with a still cocooned and asleep Sherlock.]

Moriarty: Did you miss me?

John: What do you want?

Moriarty: I want Sherlock dead.

John: Why?

Moriarty: It's a game John. Doesn't little Johnny boy like to play games? If Sherlock was awake, he would be loving this right now. All this fuss over him, us fighting over him. He loves the attention.

John: Shut up! Just shut up!

[John looks down and when he looks back up Jim is standing next to his bedside.]

Moriarty: He kissed you. And you liked it.

[John starts breathing heavily.]

John: I am not gay and my heart lies with Mary.

Moriarty: Exactly, it LIES with Mrs. Mary Watson.

John: Piss off.

Moriarty: Are you sure you love her?

John: Very.

Moriarty: You don't sound it. Would you be jealous if he got in a relationship?

John: Man or woman?

Moriarty: Does it matter?

John: No it doesn't matter. And no I would not be jealous, I would be happy for him. And hope that it's long lasting.

[John closes his eyes and when he reopens them and Moriarty is gone he looks to Sherlock and he is awake, facing John and being spooned in bed by Jim still in his tuxedo. Moriarty's knife is in John's hands.]

Moriarty: How would you feel about us two? The world's only consulting criminal with the world's only consulting psychopathic detective, how cute?

John: He's a highly functioning sociopathic detective, do your research.

Moriarty: Oh look, your even starting to sound like him. Adorable. John, pass me the box of tissues, I think I might cry.

Sherlock: Remember your wedding. I was heartbroken. Devastated even. Does it make you angry?

John: Yes.

Sherlock: Do you want to kill Moriarty?

John: Yes.

Sherlock: Go on. Kill him! Kill him! Use the knife John! Use it! Use it!

[John gets in a emotional frenzy mixed with pure hatred and anger and repeats the word 'Yes' furiously and holds the knife in both of his hands tightly and goes to stab Jim in the heart viciously and savagely, but as the knife plummets, Jim vanishes and John stabs Sherlock by mistake. The knife also materialises into thin air and ruby red blood is gushing out of Sherlock's thin and ivory body all over John's hands and the bed. John is trying to put pressure on the wound but its too deep.]

John: No. No, no, no, no, no, no! No! Don't do this to me Sherlock! Sherlock! Sherlock! Sher..

[John's eyes water up and turn bright red. Sudden realisation of great truth hits John and his anger slowly turns to devastation, panic and heartbreak, his poppy red checks flush out to a colour paler than death and starts to breath slowly and deeply.]

John: lock... I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. It was Morairty. I couldn't help myself and...

[Sherlock looks deeply at John with his beautiful turquoise eyes and with his last few painful breaths he interrupts him.]

Sherlock: Shhh.

[Sherlock places his right index finger on John's lips. And places his other hand on the right side of John's face.]

Sherlock: It's not your fault.

John: Yes, it is. I stabbed you.

Sherlock: It's ok, you meant it in a nice way.

John: What like the "Spectacularly ignorant" incident.

[Sherlock and John chuckle.]

Sherlock: Oh! Don't your killing me. In a nice way, remember.

[John smiles.]

John: I'm not going to let you die on me, for the third time.

Sherlock: Shh. John, you've made me a happy man, I'm glad I met you and at least I get to die in your arms. For real this time.

[Sherlock is really weak now and almost lifeless.]

Sherlock: Have I ever told you, you look like a cute little hedgehog.

John: And you look like a vole.

Sherlock: Don't be ridiculous. I'm clearly an otter.

John: Even on your death bed you still have to be your ludicrous self.

[Sherlock and John are holding back their tears with all their strength. John hugs Sherlock softly and lovingly and Sherlock peacefully dies. John holds Sherlock close to his chest and silently cries.]

[John wakes up from his nightmare sobbing emotionally.]

Sherlock: John, your getting tears in my hair.

[John sits up in shock.]

John: Sherlock? Sherlock! Your alive!

Sherlock: Of corse I'm alive. When wouldn't I?

John: You went there. You had to go there.

[Sherlock laughs under his breath.]

Sherlock: Nightmare?

John: Nightmare. Are you ok?

Sherlock: Yes I'm fine, whatever happened it happened in your head. It was a dream, it wasn't real. No matter how believable it was.

John: Do you want to hear it?

Sherlock: Even though I find you a very interesting little hedgehog, I have no care for dreams. I hate the idea of psychology.

John: What did you say?

Sherlock: I hate the idea of psychology.

John: No the bit before hand.

Sherlock: Even though I find you a very interesting little hedgehog, I have no care for dreams.

John: Little hedgehog?

Sherlock: Haven't I ever told you, you look like a cute little hedgehog.

John: You look like vole.

Sherlock: Don't be ridiculous. I'm clearly an otter.

John: Hmm.

Sherlock: What's the matter?

John: Nothing. Just nothing.

Sherlock: Don't lie, clearly something's up.

John: Déjà Vu.

Sherlock: Go back to sleep John, your clearly delusional.

John: Isn't it morning yet?

Sherlock: Yes it is. It's five-twenty severn AM.

John: Fine. Just let me examine you first.

Sherlock: What?

John: Take off your shirt.

[Sherlock turns over to face John.]

Sherlock: I beg your pardon?

John: I said take off your shirt so I can examine you.

Sherlock: Is this about your bloody dream, John?

John: Yes.

Sherlock: Stop being superstitious and it wasn't real, believe me. Now, get some rest.

John: Please, Sherlock. Let me check you.

Sherlock: I'm not in the mood to be playing doctor and patient tonight John.

John: {Ignoring Sherlock's last remark.}

As a doctor, it is in my duty of care to look after my patients. No matter what.

Sherlock: I can assure you I'm perfectly alright.

John: {Mumbles.}

Of corse your perfect.

[John gets out of bed and unzips his suitcase next to his bedside table to retrieve his stethoscope whilst Sherlock sits up to unbutton his shirt. John walks round to Sherlock's side of the bed and sits on the edge of the bed and put his stethoscope in his ears and places the metal disk on Sherlock's chest.]

Sherlock: Why do you always carry around your stethoscope?

John: It's called being a bloody doctor. Why do you always carry around Batrachotoxin? It's the most dangerous chemical known to man.

Sherlock: I have my reasons.

John: Are you cold? Because if you are I'll turn the heating up.

Sherlock: No, why do you ask?

John: Your nipples are strangely hard.

[John swallows.]

Sherlock: John, your a doctor. Diagnose me.

John: There's nothing to diagnose. There're normally hard for one of two reasons. Temperature. Or...

[John looks at Sherlock and then looks at ground, then he looks back at Sherlock and gulps.]

John: Or...

Sherlock: Or what?

John: Nothing. Just nothing.

[Sherlock smiles and looks at John in a apologetic way.]

[John moves the stethoscope over a couple of inches to the left and listens for a few minuets then slides it down a few centimetres and listens again for a few moments.]

John: Normal, all normal.

Sherlock: See. Nothing to worry about.

John: Nothing, to worry about.

[John removes the stethoscope from Sherlock's chest and his ears and walks back round his side of the bed and repacks the stethoscope in his suitcase. John gets back in bed quite uncomfortably. John lays on his right side so him and Sherlock are laying face to face.]

Sherlock: Do you really worry about me?

John: Yes, of corse. Are you not cold with no shirt on?

Sherlock: No, not now your back in bed with me.

[John narrows his eyebrows.]

John: I'm guessing your not used to sleeping in a bed with someone else before.

Sherlock: {Obviously lying.}

Yep. That is it. That was, what my point I was trying to put across.

John: I need you to promise me something.

Sherlock: Yes, yes anything.

John: You have to promise me, not to die. Again.

Sherlock: John, I'm not a God. I know everyone sees me that way, but I'm not immortal.

John: You've almost died twice already. Make sure when it's your third and final time, it's after me. Plus, only you see yourself as a God, everyone else just sees you as annoying.

Sherlock: Thats because they're boring. Your the only person who thinks I'm fantastic. Thats because your amazing. Your the best person I know. You are the one person I can trust the most. The one I'll do anything for.

John: {Astonished.}

I never knew you had emotions.

Sherlock: I'm just full of surprises.

John: Where did that come from?

Sherlock: My heart. And the calendar I saw in Jean's office.

[They both chuckle. John grabs Sherlock's head and kisses his forehead lightly.]

John: Three words. Do not die.

{Sighs.}

Goodnight, Mr. Holmes.

[John turns over so he is laying on his left side.]

*Sherlock's Thoughts: Three words. I love you.*

Sherlock: Three words. I will try.

{Sighs.}

Goodnight, Dr. Watson.

[Sherlock turns over so he's laying on his right side and a single tear rolls down Sherlock's left check.]

[The screen fades out to the next morning.]

[It's 8:30 and Sherlock's alarm on his phone is going off with ringtone of Moriarty's voice on repeat saying, 'Did you miss me?'. Sherlock's shirt is still off and they are in the same positions the fell asleep in. John and Sherlock are both sleepy and are struggling to wake up.]

John: {Mumbling in a irritable, annoyed, and tired way.}

Why do you use his voice as your alarm?

Sherlock: It got you up didn't it.

John: So would a normal alarm.

Sherlock: Would you prefer the ringtone for when I get when The Woman texts me?

John: Oh God no.

Sherlock: Thought so.

[Sherlock and John laugh.]

John: I hate you, your too impossible to live with.

Sherlock: No, you don't. If I was too impossible to live with, why was I your roommate?

John: Can't believe it. It's 8:30 in the morning, your not even looking at me and you can already deduct me.

Sherlock: Your just too predictable.

[Both men turn back over onto their backs and face the ceiling, Sherlock reaches with his right arm to grab his phone to turn off the alarm.]

John: Shall we be getting up now?

Sherlock: {Imitating John.}

Shall we? Shall we? Who says 'shall we' anymore? You need to stop watching Downton Abbey.

John: Should we though? Get up?

Sherlock: Can I have five minutes? I've only just woke up. Plus, a certain someone got me up at half five thirty this morning crying in my hair.

John: I'm sorry.

Sherlock: You ruined my style.

[Sherlock laughs egoistically at his own joke while John just smirks.]

Sherlock: But do you miss me?

John: What do you mean?

Sherlock: Do you miss living with me?

John: Sometimes.

Sherlock: Sometimes?

John: All the time.

[Sherlock smirks.]

Sherlock: Knew it.

John: I bet you did. I love Mary, but normal, domestic life. Really is just. Normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. No experiments. No drugs busts. No thumbs in the fridge. No human eyeballs in the microwave. No manic violin playing at 3 AM. I never thought I say this, but I really miss it. I miss you. I miss Mrs. Hudson and her disgusting herbal earl grey tea. I miss 221B Baker Street. I miss the murder, the chaos and the mayhem. That was my real home. I want my real life back. I want to be real, with you.

[One small tear rolls down John's check and Sherlock's eyes start to water.]

Sherlock: Just a thought. But would you like to move back in? But with Mary this time?

[John's face lights up with excitement.]

John: That would be. Fantastic.

Sherlock: But you would have to buy a new bed though.

John: Of corse.

Sherlock: Of corse.

[John and Sherlock get out of bed and that's the end of the scene.]

[After a long day of several taxi journeys and speaking to various members of Georgia's friends, family and other relatives, they end up at a run down council house, which happens to be Georgia's home. John rings the door bell.]

[With exception of a barking Rottweiler and a what seems a like a Pitt-bull Terroir there is no reply.]

[Sherlock bangs the door violently.]

Woman's Voice: All right, all right! I'm coming! Tyler! Gibbs! Shut the fuck up!

[The dogs do so. And both men give each other a look of disgust.]

[The door opens and a short, scruffy and slightly over weight middle aged woman with crooked and some missing teeth and bright red hair speaks to the gentlemen.]

Woman: Who are you? And what do ya want?

Sherlock: My name is Sherlock and he is John.

Woman: No, no we don't want to buy anything. Even if we did, I've got no damn money.

John: Sorry, we're not trying to sell you anything.

Woman: {Rampaging.}

If your with the bloody church, we don't want your God damn Bibles or nothing. This is a Pagan household, and we're not converting to any religion. So you go and tell the fucking council that I'm not changing my faith because those shit ass schools tell us to.

Sherlock: {Interrupting.}

I am a detective and my friend here is a doctor.

Woman: I've done nothing wrong. That is flour under my floor boards nothing more, nothin less.

John: We believe you.

Sherlock: {Turns to John.}

No we don't.

John: Shut up Sherlock. What's your name by the way?

Woman: Melissa.

Sherlock: And your second name?

Melissa: Why should I tell you? Who do you work for?

[John and Sherlock give each other a glance.]

John: We sort of work for New Scotland Yard. But he's more of a consulting detective.

Melissa: What has someone done now? I know Stacey was out last night, but when she got home I swear to God, she didn't get shot this time.

Sherlock: There's been a murder.

Melissa: Murder? I know I'm not parent of the year, but God none of my own would not kill anyone. Unless...

John: We're not implying that, we just want to speak to the victims girlfriend to collect information.

Sherlock: Is Charlie Smith home?

Melissa: Yes, but you can't see her yet. She's talking to her councillor at the moment.

John: Can we come in?

Melissa: {Turns around to call down the hall.}

Mark! Put the dogs in the garden! Yes, you may enter. Sit yourself in the front room, make yourself comfortable.

[The house is very similar to Georgia's home in shape and form, but the condition is quite the opposite. Mess, rubbish, dust and dirt everywhere a pungent odour that lingers in the air of the household the the inhabitants have clearly became nose blind to. Everyone is clearly a hoarder, everything is ruined or broken and all their belongings are clearly more than 10+ years old.]

[Melissa goes into the kitchen to make tea.]

Melissa: Do you boys want tea?

Sherlock and John {Immediately and at the same time}: No!

John: We're fine. We're just fine. Us two sitting, here. In your.

{Looking around and swallowing deeply.}

Beautiful home.

Sherlock: Don't lie.

John: Sherlock.

Sherlock: Yes?

John: Don't be ignorant.

Sherlock: Why not?

John: It's not polite.

Sherlock: And lying is?

John: If used efficiently, appropriately and correctly, then yes.

Sherlock: Have you ever lied to me?

John: Oh, God - no! Never! Your my best friend, why would I do that?

Sherlock: Really?

John: I told you I enjoyed your lasagna made out of crocodile meat. That's it, that's all, but in all fairness you lie to me all the time.

Sherlock: I never.

John: You faked your death for two years.

Sherlock: Point taken. Can't believe you don't like my crocodile lasagna.

John: {Sarcastically.}

Try panda next time. It's more tender.

Sherlock: No, why would I? They're endangered, shame on you.

{Pause.}

Was that by any chance, sarcasm?

John: You think?

[Both of them smile and laugh.]

Sherlock: Serious face. We're gonna give his young girl some really bad news. We can't just walk in there giggling like children.

John: No, because we will be giggling like adults.

Sherlock: Oh stop it, your splitting my sides.

[Two sets of foot steps are heard coming down the stairs.]

[The first person who came down the stairs is in her mid forties and in a matching coral pink blazer, pencil skirt and high heels and a cream blouse. Her golden hair is neatly tied up in a bun with a scrunchy that matched her (obviously not natural) hair colour. Sherlock noticed that she'd recently been on holiday to Portugal due to her olive skin slightly darkened by a tan (probably the only thing natural about her). John noticed every tiny detail about this woman. He almost fell for her until, he realised. She was his ex-therapist/girlfriend. One word flew through his mind repeatedly. Awkward.]

Councillor: Well, it was nice talking to you again, Charlie. Keep revising for your A-Levels. Make sure you keep in touch with Miss Jones, I'm sure she's missing you.

[Of corse, at this moment in time Sherlock has all the knowledge of this woman, and Charlie's family by his amazing 'God like' super power of deduction, and as John is overflowing with liquid embarrassment, the sweat of awkwardness is starting to show at the top of his forehead.]

John: {Whispers.}

Sherlock. She's my ex-therapist.

Sherlock: {Whispers.}

And your ex-girlfriend.

John: I would ask, 'How did you know?', but there's no point no more.

[Sherlock smiles.]

Councillor: {As she comes off the stairs to leave.}

John? Is that you?

John: {Nervously.}

Yep. Hello Claire.

Claire: It's been so long. We must get together someday and have a coffee.

John: {Awkwardly.}

Yes, yes we should.

Claire: So, what do you do now? Last time we met you were gonna become an army doctor. How did that work out?

John: {Calming himself.}

Errm. Very well actually. I got shot in the shoulder around 5 years ago. So, I got dismissed.

Claire: Your into detective work now. Yeah, I found your blog.

Sherlock: Don't get me started on his blog!

Claire: Oh, Sherlock Holmes I presume?

[Claire and Sherlock shake hands.]

Sherlock: Nice to meet you.

Claire: Nice to meet you too. Are either of you in a relationship?

[Sherlock and John give each other a glare and smile at each other.]

John: {Awkwardly and shyly.}

Errm. Yes, married.

Claire: Oh, so it's that type of relationship. Good for you John.

[Sherlock leans in to John's left ear.]

Sherlock: {Whispers.}

Just go with it John.

John: {Annoyed and looking at his feet.}

Oh yes, me and Sherlock.

Sherlock: {In a camp tone.}

Together forever.

[Sherlock wraps his right arm around Johns waist.]

Sherlock: {Whispers.}

You'll thank me later.

John: {Whispers and grinding his teeth.}

I hate you.

Claire: Aww. You two make such a cute couple. What happened to that Mary woman?

John: {Awkwardly and embarrassingly.}

She is my.. My..

Sherlock: She is our surrogate mother.

[John goes white as a sheet and looks like he has been punched in the stomach to the thought of him and Sherlock becoming parents.]

Claire: That is adorable. Not to seem rude or anything because I must ask. Who's the woman of relationship?

Sherlock: My little Johnny is.

John: {Mimicking Sherlock's camp tone.}

Haven't I told you enough not to call me that outside the bedroom, darling?

[Claire laughs.]

Claire: Well, I must dash. Nice to see you again John. Hope to see you soon.

[John and Claire hug.]

Claire: Pleasure to meet you Mr. Holmes. Look after John.

Sherlock: Oh, I will.

[Sherlock goes to shake Claire's hand and she gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Claire leaves the house and John and Sherlock sit back down on the sofa.]

John: Oh my word! What have you done?

Sherlock: Done you a favour.

John: How?

Sherlock: She's believes she's straight. She was going to ask you back out. But now this has happened she's going to discover she's pansexual in 6 months and marry Harry in 2 years time.

John: And now I'm scarred for life. Harry? My Harry? How do you know?

Sherlock: Wasn't that obvious? How DO you live with your funny little brain, it must be so boring?

John: Your brilliant. You know that.

Sherlock: {Smugly.}

I know.

{Mumbles under his breath.}

Sapiosexual.

John: Pardon?

Sherlock: Hmm?

John: You said something.

Sherlock: No I didn't.

Female Teenage Voice: {From midway up the stairs.}

Yes you did. Don't lie.

[John and Sherlock look up at the staircase.]

[The teenager couldn't be no more than 16-17 although she looked a lot older. She was very tall, even though she was sitting on one of the stairs. She was very physically mature, well built and quite toned. Sherlock made his deductions immediately on her. She was either transgender or gender fluid. Has depression caused by bipolar and social anxiety. She's wearing a navy blue hoodie, black jeans, a pink thermal pyjama top and white slipper socks. Her completion is a mixture of pale cream and light yellowy olive, with the odd freckle or two and a big bright red birthmark which spread over her left side of her face. Her hair, dark ginger. Darker than Mycroft's. Matches her personality to be honest.]

Teenager: You said sapiosexual. You believe he's a sapiosexual?

John: So, ok what's a sapiosexual?

Teenager: A sapiosexual is when someone gets aroused or has a fetishising for someone else's intelligence or intellectual status.

[Sherlock smirks.]

John: {Sternly.}

I am not aroused by Sherlock.

Teenager: I didn't say you were aroused by Sherlock, I said you were aroused by his intelligence. It looks like someone's opening up.

John: I am not gay.

Teenager: Not saying your gay, just saying your a possible hetro-negative homosexual.

{Towards Sherlock.}

And you, what's name again? Sher... Sherlock? That's right, Sherlock Holmes. I. I can't tell much from you. Your body language is showing all signs of what the professionals call, 'The Chameleon Effect'.

[Sherlock smirks and frowns at the same time, both surprised and confused.]

Sherlock: Charlie Smith, I presume?

Teenager: Yes. Why are you here?

John: We... We sort of work for the police.

Charlie: How many times do we have to say? The white powder under the floor boards is just self raising flour. Nothing more, nothing less.

Melissa's Voice (from the kitchen): That's exactly what I bloody told them.

John: No, no. Something's happened. Something bad.

Charlie: What? What are you talking about? Did Gibbs bite someone again? Melissa, I keep telling you to get rid of that sodding dog!

Sherlock: I notice you call her Melissa. Why?

Charlie: None of your damn business. What do you want to talk about?

John: What we need to talk about is quite...delicate. And we feel that, we should talk to you in...privet.

Sherlock: Or to give you the short answer. There has been a murder.

Charlie: Lets talk. My bedroom. Now.

[The whole household goes instantly silent and Melissa drops her mug of tea on the floor.]

[Charlie shows the two men up the stairs and they follow her into her room almost silently. She sits in the middle while the gentleman sat down either side of her.]

[Charlie's room is much like Georgia's bedroom in the sense style of how the the furniture was arranged. But her walls were multicoloured and the room itself was much less clean and tidy than Georgia's and was pretty much filthy and covered in animal hair.]

Charlie: {Angrily.}

Who done it?

Sherlock: We tell you there's been a murder and the first thing you ask is 'Who done it?'? It's like you already know who's died.

John: It's like your the murderer.

Charlie: {Furiously.}

I'm not the bloody murderer! Tell me now! Who's dead? Who done it? Whoever did it I'm gonna kill them!

[Charlie's eyes are crimson with anger and hatred, almost in tears.]

Sherlock: You don't even know who's dead. How can you be so emotionally attached to them?

Charlie: {Pause.}

Look. I... Didn't have much family growing up. And the ones I had were. Lets just say... 'NFFC' or 'NSFW'

Sherlock: Which means?

John and Charlie (simultaneously) : 'Not Fit For Care' or 'Not Safe For Work'.

Sherlock: Oh. So I'm guessing, you've been an orphan.

Charlie: {Emotionally.}

Yep. Everyone I've ever known or met have been considered either extremely close friends or family. So anyone who is dead. The cold bloodied killer. Whoever he or she is, they are dead. I promise all my friends and family that I WILL protect them, and I won't let nothing in my way to stop them from being harmed. Let alone killed.

John: Do you want to know?

Sherlock: Don't be stupid John. Of corse she wants to know. She needs to know.

Charlie: So, who died?

Sherlock: We're well aware that she is one of your closer friends.

[Charlie's eyes are watering now and in total disgust.]

John: {Calmly and respectively.}

Would you like a minute?

Charlie: {Frustratedly.}

Just. Get on. With it.

John: She has been identified as your girlfriend, Georgia Summers.

[Charlie inhales a couple of deep breaths through her nose and pulls her phone out of her front trouser pocket and throws it across her room at her wall and it smashes to bits. Charlie then lays down on her bed and sobs into her arm.]

Charlie: Ex-girlfriend.

John: Pardon?

Charlie: You heard what I said. She's my ex-girlfriend now. It's not like I'm going to be on a relationship with a dead person.

Sherlock: Her head was found in the middle of her bedroom three days ago.

[Charlie sits up and wipes away her tears.]

Charlie: Her head? Just her head?

John: Yes, her body hasn't been found yet. We also presume she has been skinned as well.

Charlie: What type of wild animal would do this?

Sherlock: We will find the body, the murderer left us a clue to where it was. And we WILL find your girlfriend's killer to this murder most foul.

John: Murder most foul?

Sherlock: Yes, this is clearly a murder that can only be described as foul. Keep up John.

John: And I though I watched too much Downtown Abbey.

Charlie: Find them. Please Doctor Watson and Mr Holmes. Take them to justice. Give them my retribution.

John: We want to ask. What were you doing the last time you saw her?

Charlie: You think I killed her?

John: No, no it's not that at all.

Sherlock: {Calmly Interrupting.}

John, I've made a huge mistake.

John: One moment Charlie. Yes, Sherlock?

Sherlock: I think your right.

John: I'd never thought I'll hear the day you'll say that. But about what? May I ask?

Sherlock: Sometimes the simplest answer is the correct answer.

John: And what's that supposed to mean?

Sherlock: Your hypothesis, in DI Lestrade's office, was correct.

John: I'm not to sure I follow.

Sherlock: Of corse you don't, your an idiot. Don't take it personally. Everyone's an idiot. Even I'm an idiot.

John: What I would give for a recording of that?

[Sherlock giggles.]

John: Sherlock, grow up. So, where were I? Oh yes. So, Charlie what were you doing before Georgia was killed?

Charlie: Errm. Well. She was round mine for games night. Which happens every Friday night. We sit downstairs and play a mixture of games on a games console like my Xbox or Playstation. Then we might watch some films or tv for a bit. Then we play board games till late, like really late.

Sherlock: Like what?

Charlie: Anywhere between 2AM till 3AM. But don't worry it's not just me and her. Our other friends are there as well, like James, Kayleigh, Daniel and Emily.

Sherlock: We are fully aware of your friends Miss Smith. We've been talking to them all day.

John: Then what happened?

Charlie: Usually, Zoe has a sleepover round Hope's house every Friday night. But this week she didn't because Hope was ill.

John: Who's Hope?

Charlie: Zoe's friend.

Sherlock: And who's Zoe?

Charlie: Mel's daughter. So Friday, I walked her home, without my friends this time. They had to stay at home and look after Zoe, because Mel don't like Zoe going out late at night because she's only 10 you see. Plus, Mel and Mark went out for their usual clubbing on a Friday night.

John: Who is Mel to you? Friend? Family? Relative? Enemy?

Charlie: As I said earlier, none of your damn business. That's a confidential secrete that only me, her and Social Services know about. What she has done for me is unbelievable. I don't even tell my Councillor what my relationship between me and her is. And I've known her for years. I'm not just gonna tell two perfectly good strangers for that matter. Plus, who has enemies in the real world anymore? Seriously? In this world, you have people that you like and people that you don't like and that's it. Don't be so childish!

John: Told you Sherlock. No-one has enemies no more.

Sherlock: Your world must be so dull. Did you go in the house with her?

Charlie: No.

John: Did you see anyone their out of the ordinary? Did anyone or anything look suspicious?

Charlie: No, no. Nothing. No-one. Just. Neighbours.

Sherlock: Neighbours?

Charlie: Yeah, neighbours. Some work night shifts at James Paget Hospital. And others were coming home from nights out, Hen party. I think.

Sherlock: So the murderer was already in the building? Yes?

Charlie: Possibly.

John: How many people do you know own a key to Georgia's house?

Charlie: Was gonna say 10. 9 people now. You want names?

Sherlock: Yes please. That will be very helpful.

Charlie: Me, her mum, herself and her dad.

John: Whose name is?

Charlie: Jamie Summers.

Sherlock: You said 10. 10 people. Why does 10 people have a door key to her house?

Charlie: Can't say.

Sherlock: Why not?

Charlie: Because I don't know. But I do know someone who does know. Miss Jessica Jones. She's one of the key holders.

Sherlock: Who is she? Where is she? Why is she important?

Charlie: To answer your questions, 1. I don't know, we used to be roommates at the orphanage I used to live at. We were good friends, sisters almost. 2. I don't know that either. She got transferred from place to place. She never stayed in one orphanage no longer than 6-12 weeks. 3. Same again. I have no idea. She didn't seem as important when I knew her. But to be honest. She never spoke about ... anything. Not who her parents were, why she is in the orphanage in the first place, what she wanted to do for an occupation, what her dreams or inspirations were. Nothing. But before I got adopted by Mel. She told me everything about here, and Norfolk, the keys and everything you could possibly know about Georgia and this big 'plan' that's going to happen.

Sherlock: Wait! What plan?

Charlie: I really don't know! I can't remember! It was such a long time ago! You know your talking about a conversation that happened between me and her around 6 or 7 years ago! Plus she was speaking really fast and I couldn't understand half of what she was saying! And it was all a bit of a blur! But for some reason, she trusted me to keep a key for a house that wasn't even built yet!

John: So, this isn't your usual murder then?

Sherlock: No. This. This is something much, much more. This has been preplanned in advance, for a very, very long time.

John: Are we going to need Mycroft's help? After-all, he practically IS the British government. He could look into this much further than we can.

Sherlock: No John, we're going to find our killer, solve this case and go home. We'll let Mycroft know what Charlie's just told us and he can go into it himself if he wants to, if he's not too busy shagging Lestrade or eating cake that is.

John: Or waving his giant umbrella around.

Sherlock: John, was that supposed to be an innuendo?

John: Wasn't it obvious?

Sherlock: Yes, but I had to be sure. I didn't want to put in any premature laughter in at the wrong moment. I think we should be going now.

John: Well Charlie, thanks for letting us see you, we better be going. Sorry for your loss.

Sherlock: You have been extremely helpful. Commiserations by the way. I hope your mourning is short lived, because we don't want that to effect our depression now do we.

[Sherlock and John make their way out of the house and close he door behind them. While Charlie curls up on her bed crying her eyes out.]

Charlie: {Sobbingly.}

What have I done! What have I done!

{Almost Silently.}

What have I done to deserve this!

[Scene changes to John and Sherlock back in bed at the B&B. Both men have their laptops on their laps. They're in their pyjamas. The TV is not on.]

John: What a day.

Sherlock: We have so much to consider now.

John: What do you think about Charlie?

Sherlock: She's a sociopath. And she's the killer.

John: Potentially. Did you even see her? She clearly loved Georgia. And she was extremely upset, and who would be so angry against a murderer. If it was them?

Sherlock: It's simple John. She has bipolar. She's angry at her split persona of which she considers a different person. But we have to keep our options open. She could be framed.

John: Additionally, we don't have much evidence.

Sherlock: We have all the evidence. Did you see under her bed? Wooden carvings! She makes sculptures! She has a psychotic side to her. And she has a key to her house! Need I say more?

John: Yeah, you could explain to me why we don't just arrest her now?

Sherlock: We need to find the body and her motive.

John: One more thing. Why aren't you wearing pants? We've been over this, remember Buckingham Palace?

Sherlock: I'm hot. So I took off my trousers. To be honest, your trousers are off as well.

John: Yeah, but at least I still have my pants on.

Sherlock But I have my laptop on my lap.

John: So do I.

Sherlock: Because my family have a rare gene in our DNA that makes our skin pigmentation quite pale, this gives me a disadvantage. I get skin burn so easily. I have to wear factor 50 sun cream all the time. Even during night time. My skin is so fare moon burn is a real possibility.

John: That hasn't answered my question.

Sherlock: The answer to your question is, for me there's a large chance of getting laptop radiation burns.

John: I'm a doctor. There's no such thing as laptop radiation burns.

Sherlock: So, I won't get burned?

John: No. You won't get burned. To be honest, I'm feeling quite uncomfortable.

Sherlock: Why? Your a man, I'm a man. There's nothing here you haven't seen before.

John: I just don't like sharing a bed with a man with his genitals out.

Sherlock: Why not? You do it all the time with Mary.

John: That is a completely different matter.

[John reaches over his bedside table to pick up his mug of tea and takes a mouthful.]

Sherlock: On the matter of my pants. Will you perform a rectal exam on me please?

[John spits out half of his tea on himself and his laptop.]

John: {Coughs.}

What? What! A rectal exam! Why?

Sherlock: John, I've been finding blood in my stool for some time and I'm getting quite worried.

John: How long? Why haven't you gone to the doctors yet?

Sherlock: A while. Six months give or take. And I've been waiting the right time to ask you.

John: Right? Errm. You want me to do this now? I haven't got any gloves or lube with me. I have an anal douche, enema and a endoscope, if you would like an emergency colonoscopy.

Sherlock: You carry around an endoscope?

John: For emergencies only.

Sherlock: Good to know. I have lube and latex free gloves if you want.

John: Why do you carry around lube and gloves?

[Sherlock gives John a blank stare.]

Sherlock: Because of pancakes John, because of pancakes.

John: Pancakes? What have pancakes got to do with anything? You know what, I'm not even gonna ask no more. There's no point.

{Pause.}

So, should we get started?

Sherlock: Yes.

John: Right, you get the gloves and lube out, while I'll sort out the bed.

[Silently and awkwardly John clears the bed of each others laptops and places them on the floor. Sherlock goes to his bedside table and opens the draw to remove the box of latex free gloves and medium sized bottle of lube.]

John: Oh, I can't believe I'm doing this.

Sherlock: Are you, somewhat embarrassed?

John: A bit. It's just, I should be used to this. I do this all the time in the clinic.

{Pauses to look at Sherlock's penis.}

Wow. That's.

{Swallows.}

Jesus Christ.

{Under his breath.}

What a waste.

{Spoken Normally.}

I'm surprised you don't have a girlfriend.

Sherlock: What woman would have me?

John: Are you kidding me?

[John indicates with his eyes to what he is talking about.]

Sherlock: Really? I thought it was average size.

John: {Sighs.}

Right, lets get started then.

[John looks away briefly then he re-spreads and flattens out the duvet on the bed.]

John: Is my patient ready?

Sherlock: Your patient is always ready.

John: Right, pass me the gloves and lube.

[Sherlock passes the items to John.]

John: Lay on the bed in the most comfortable position possible. I suggest the embryo.

[Sherlock does so. John takes a pair of gloves out of the glove box and puts them on. Then he places them down on his bedside table and lubes up his first two fingers on his right hand. He then sits on the bed next to Sherlock's behind. He then places the bottle next to him on the bed.]

John: Are you ready to proceed?

Sherlock: Very.

[Sherlock closes his eyes as John spreads his cheeks to access his anus. As a very professional doctor John calmly pushes his way in Sherlock's tight rectum.]

Sherlock: {Giggling.}

John: {Sternly.}

Why are you giggling? I don't have to do this.

Sherlock: {Giggling.}

No, no! I'm just really ticklish.

[As John moves his fingers around - Sherlock bursts out laughing.]

John: Stop! Stop it! Your a grown man! Hold in your laughter!

{Starts giggling.}

Sherlock: Yes doctor.

John: {Sighs.}

Hold still. Almost there... Almost there... And, done.

Sherlock: {Grunts.}

What a exceptional... Experience. John. John!

John: Hmm?

Sherlock: You can... Leave my body now.

John: Oh, oh god yes! I must of zoned out.

[John removes his fingers from Sherlock. And walks to the bathroom to bin the gloves and wash his hands. When he gets back Sherlock is asleep.]

[John freezes.]

John: Oh my bloody God! Looks like I'm not getting any sleep tonight.

{Rhetorically Asked.}

Are you on steroids?

{Laughs.}

{Slightly Concerned.}

God, you ARE a waste. Any woman would be VERY happy to have you.

[Screen goes black and fades back in to 5AM. John is sleeping in the armchair in the corner of the room. Sherlock is fully dressed in his pyjamas and underwear and snug under his duvet - thanks to John.]

Sherlock: {Moaning.}

Jawn. Jawn! Jaaawwn!

John: {Tired and Half Asleep.}

Yes, Sherlock?

Sherlock: {Moaning.}

Jawn! I'm dying!

John: {Slowly Waking Up.}

Hmm?

Sherlock: Jawn, I'm dying! I'm in so much pain!

John: It's probably because you've never had anything inserted inside of you before.

Sherlock: {Moans In Total Pain.}

Help me! I need a doctor!

John: You asked for it! The only thing I can give you is a cup of tea and painkillers.

Sherlock: {Confused.}

Why am I fully clothed, and under the duvet?

John: I couldn't let you sleep half naked and cold, could I?

[Sherlock and John smile.]

Sherlock: Get in bed. You need your sleep. And you won't sleep comfortably in that chair. It doesn't give you enough back support.

[Both men chuckle and John gets into bed, and they fall asleep.]

[Next scene is John and Sherlock sitting in café with their laptops and coffee.]

Sherlock: How was my exam last night?

John: Good, good. You'll have to have a endoscopy to be sure, but I think it's acute haemorrhoids. What are we doing today?

Sherlock: They keys.

John: What?

Sherlock: You remember what Charlie said. There are 10 key holders to Georgia's house. Who are they? Are they linked? Why are they important?

John: Why that house? Why is that house important?

Sherlock: That's why I'm doing research on the house and the land around it. I suggest you should too.

John: I'm contacting Mycroft at the moment.

Sherlock: Why?

John: To find out who this Jessica Jones girl is. She may be useful.

Sherlock: {Ignorantly.}

I don't get help from amateurs.

John: Look at this.

Sherlock: What? Your blog has got a new view?

John: No, Mycroft has emailed back. According to the Government, there's no record on anyone currently alive called Jessica Jones.

Sherlock: So, she's dead. Everyone dies at some point.

{Pauses.}

[Sherlock puts his hands in his classic 'steeple' position under his chin.]

Sherlock: {Spoken Rapidly.}

She was one of the key holders. So, each of the key holders are getting killed. Why? Why? Why John? Does someone want all the keys? When together do they unlock something bigger? Treasure? No, no don't be ridiculous! Something more, something obvious!

{Pauses.}

John, you have beautiful eyes. They're distracting me, please close them.

John: Why don't you close yours, you work better in your mind palace if you close your eyes.

Sherlock: I'm not in my mind palace, I'm just thinking. Close your eyes.

[John does so.]

Sherlock: {Breathes Deeply.}

So, what about this 'plan', what is this 'plan'? How can you have keys for a house that isn't built yet? Who knew Georgia was going to be murdered? John, ask Mycroft if he knows anything about Georgia Summers, her family or 5 Kings Drive.

[John goes to open his eyes.]

Sherlock: Don't open your eyes!

John: How am I supposed to type?

Sherlock: I didn't mean contact him now. Before, we solve this mystery we need to solve this case. Lets find that body.

[Sherlock closes his laptop and runs out of the café with his coffee in hand and catches a taxi, leaving John behind.]

John: Sherlock? Sherlock? Are you still there Sherlock? Can I open my eyes now?

[John opens his eyes.]

John: Oh bloody hell! Where is he off to now? Well he can't be far, I'll just email Mycroft.

Emails:

Mycroft,

Your brother has gone walkabouts again. He's just gone and bloody left me in a sodding café! This case is really weird... I'm not sure what to make of it, neither does Sherlock (even though he won't admit it). A lot has happened within these last few days so I'll send you a document I've written on Word Processor of all the details. We're both really confused. We met a young girl yesterday, named Charlie Smith. We believe she was the victims girlfriend. She was talking about when she was in lived in an orphanage, she knew some girl named Jessica Jones. She apparently gave her a key to 5 Kings Drive (the victims house), and 9 other people own separate keys. But this happened over 6 years ago! The house wasn't even built then. So how can 10 people own keys to a house that wasn't even built? Then Charlie started talking about a 'plan' that Jessica Jones told her about and we believe Georgia's death is the beginning of a giant 'plan' that's soon going to unravel.

We believe that this murder is not your ordinary murder. And someone has been planning this for years. For some mysterious reason. We are so in need of your help. Can you do some background research or look into your government archives about Charlie Smith and Georgia Summers, their friends and family, 5 Kings Drive - land, history etc? Sorry to take up time of your precious and valuable day, Sherlock's request (of course).

Thank You for your time,

Yours Faithfully,

Doctor John H. Watson

-JW

(P.S: Please forward this email to D.I. Greg Lestrade.)

*ATTACHMENT* WORD DOCUMENT TITLED: Georgia's Case: Headless at Hogwarts*

^Click to Download^

John: I better find out where Sherlock is.

Texts:

Sherlock! WHERE THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU!? How dare you LEAVE ME IN A SODDING CAFÉ! On my own! I'm going to KILL YOU!

-JW*

John, there is no need to shout! I'm sorry I left you, I assumed you'd follow me. I'm in a taxi. As I said we need to find Georgia's body. So starting from today, we're going to every church, chapel, dungeon, tomb and chamber in the Norfolk area. I'll send you a PDF of all the places we're going to and the order we're going in.

-SH

Here's the PDF btw: *List of Churches and Tombs in Norfolk that have Historical Relevance* see you soon.

-SH

[John opens and downloads the PDF on his phone.]

John: Looks like I'm going to Great Yarmouth Minister.

[Scene fades to Sherlock and John sitting in Great Yarmouth Minister.]

John: {Whispers.}

What are we doing here?

Sherlock: {Whispers.}

Looking for Georgia Summers's body. Because as we know its in some place in Norfolk with Historical Relevance and it's in some sort of tomb or chamber. So, it looks like no-one is here, lets do some tomb raiding.

[Sherlock and John get up and a montage of the detective and the doctor ransacking every church and chapel in Norfolk. Each man goes on their separate ways and looks through tomb after tomb, dungeon after dungeon, chamber after chamber and history tour after history tour.]

[The montage ends and fades out to Sherlock and John sitting on a bench at the beach sharing a portion of chips.]

John: We have found nothing. Three weeks on this case. Still, nothing. Why do you think everywhere is empty? Do you think the body was removed?

Sherlock: No, the killer is an attention seeker. He or she wants to be caught. They want us to find the body. They want to be caught.

{Pauses.}

{Spoken Slowly.}

It was like, it was, all part of a. Plan. Cleaver, cleaver.

[Sherlock stands up and gazes over the horizon.]

Sherlock: It wasn't A chamber, it was THEE chamber! Jillian's secrete chamber.

John: What are you talking about?

Sherlock: Yes! Of corse! John don't you see?

{Spoken Excitedly and Rapidly.}

It wasn't a chamber or tomb! It was THEE chamber! As we know, Jillian - Georgia's mother, was a liar and kept secrets from everyone, including her daughter.

{Pauses.}

{Spoken Calmly.}

John we're going back to 5 Kings Drive.

John: Why? There's nothing there. We checked last week and the week before.

[Sherlock smiles.]

Sherlock: But not the cupboard under the stairs.

John: I checked with Mycroft, there's no basement.

Sherlock: Not on record. That's why it's the chamber of SECRETES! Common, lets go!

[John and Sherlock leave the beach and catch a bus to Georgia's house.]

[Sherlock and John walk up to front door. And Sherlock knocks furiously.]

Sherlock: JILLIAN SUMMERS WE COMMAND YOU TO OPEN THIS DOOR!

{No response.}

John: Open your damn door!

{No response.}

John: Bloody hell woman! Let us in!

Sherlock: By law you have to! We sort of work for the police! We don't want to bring down the rest of the police force now, do we?

[John turns around and looks around the house.]

John: Sherlock, she's not home, her car isn't here.

Sherlock: Good job I've got this.

[Sherlock reaches into his right pocket and grabs out a house key.]

John: Why do you have one of the house keys?

Sherlock: Remember the first day we met.

John: It's not like I can forget.

Sherlock: I said I sometimes pick pocket D.I. Lestrade when he annoys me. The first day we met D.I. Ford, I pick pocketed him of his key to the house, and I pick pocketed Charlie Smith of her key.

[Sherlock unlocks the house.]

Sherlock: You ready?

John: Oh god yes!

[John and Sherlock go into the house and walk down the hall. And they stop when they reach the cupboard under the stairs.]

John: The doors locked.

[Sherlock breaks the door lock with a strong kick.]

Sherlock: Not anymore.

[Sherlock and John go into the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard has an strong odour of rotting flesh. Both men immediately cover their noses and mouths with their sleeves.]

John: It smells like someone's died in here.

Sherlock: So?

[Sherlock and John smile at each other.]

John: So, this means we've found Georgia. But where is she?

Sherlock: In the chamber of secretes.

John: Which is?

Sherlock: Below us.

[Sherlock starts jumping lightly, then he crouches down and rolls the rug beneath them.]

Sherlock: Look, a trap door.

[Sherlock un-hooks the latch on the door and opens its.]

John: Bloody hell. Wonder where those stairs lead to.

Sherlock: Wonder no more. Shall we?

[John gives a blank stare.]

Sherlock: Scared Watson?

John: You, wish.

[Sherlock and John descend down the stairs into the 'dungeon' where Georgia was killed. In the middle of the room, Georgia's undisturbed headless and skinned body still in the chair she was killed in. All of her body is skinned with the exception of her hands. In her right hand is one of the house keys.]

Sherlock: This is a sex dungeon. I'm guessing this was Jill's secrete chamber.

John: This is disgusting. I've never seen anything like this.

{Pauses.}

Look Sherlock there's a whole tunnel, I wonder where it leads to.

Sherlock: I'll guess we'll find out.

[Sherlock and John walk over to inspect the body.]

Voice within the darkness: So, you finally solved the clue, Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson.

[Both men stop what they're doing and look around sharply.]

John: {Sternly.}

Who is this?

Sherlock: {Bravely.}

Show yourself!

[The owner of the voice does so.]

John: {Surprised, Shocked and Angrily.}

Charlie! How could you do this to your own girlfriend?

Sherlock: {Calmly.}

Oh, typical, typical sociopath.

Charlie: {Calmly.}

I had too. It was part of the plan.

Sherlock: Again, with this plan? What is it about? Who's behind it?

Charlie: You will find out sooner or later. Now walk with me.

John: Before we do. What happened to the skin?

Charlie: It... Got disposed of.

[Sherlock and John narrow their eyebrows and take a quick glance at each other.]

Sherlock: How? I DEMAND to know.

Charlie: If you take a few samples of my stool for a few days to you will find out what happened.

John: That's just wrong.

[Charlie gives a demonic laugh.]

Charlie: Follow me.

[Just before they go, Sherlock rips the key out of Georgia's hand. John and Sherlock then follow Charlie through this underground tunnel at a distance and very warily, close together and silently.]

*Ten minutes of awkward and scared silence later.*

Charlie: Here we are. My house.

Sherlock: So, Georgia didn't leave the house that night? Your 'Games Night' is in your room. You took her downstairs to 'take her home' but took her this way instead, to kill her. Needlessly.

Charlie: You are good aren't you. Would you like to come to my room for one last time.

Sherlock: Now your going to kill us, classic sociopathic behaviour.

Charlie: {Regressively.}

You might not.

[All three go up the stairs into a tight squeeze to Charlie's cupboard under the stairs. And almost silently they trail back up her house stairs and into her room. Charlie stands still in the middle of her room and faces her window while Sherlock and John stand sternly behind her.]

John: So what's happening now?

Charlie: One of us is gonna die. And I can choose. I can choose to go with the plan or I could choose to be a little bit psychotic.

Sherlock: {Sternly.}

Who's running this plan? Tell us! Tell us now!

Charlie: {Almost In Tears.}

I can't. I can't do this no more. I can't. The guy who's running the shop, so to speak is. My father.

John: I thought you said he was dead. That's why you were in the orphanage.

Charlie: I said NSFW!

{Pauses and Breaths Deeply.}

My father's name is James Mo-

*Gunshot heard.*

[Charlie falls to the floor and is coughing up blood. John as a professional doctor runs to her aid and breaks her fall. Sherlock runs to the window to see who shot her.]

John: Charlie, Charlie! Who? Who's your father?

[Charlie is spitting and coughing up blood everywhere and her bullet wound is quite deep and has punctured her lungs.]

Charlie: {Breathing Rapidly.}

Why? Why did I go with the plan?

John: Who's your father? Who's behind this plan?

Charlie: {Whispers Quietly.}

James. James Moriarty.

[Charlie's life slips away in John's arms, and John is almost in tears also.]

John: Sherl. Sherlock. Sherlock! God damn it Sherlock listen to me!

Sherlock: Shut up John, I'm always listening to you. What is it?

John: It's not over. Why is it never over?

Sherlock: What's not over?

John: Moriarty.

[John and Sherlock stare at each other worryingly.]

[The screen goes black and slowly fades back into the next scene of John and Sherlock sitting on the train home. It's pouring of rain and freezing.]

John: What did I say?

Sherlock: Shut up.

John: I was right all along and you didn't listen. I think that's a bit of a problem.

Sherlock: We have a bigger problem now. Now Moriarty is back.

*Screen goes black. Run Credits.*


End file.
